


Le Mal Du Pays

by lolahardy



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Character Death, M/M, Secret Marriage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-01
Updated: 2014-03-25
Packaged: 2017-12-28 02:51:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 22
Words: 63,954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/986801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lolahardy/pseuds/lolahardy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Years before the Inception job Mal gave Eames a home to long for.</p><p>Then, Arthur gave him one.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Eames walked arm in arm with Mal through the streets of Paris. It was beautiful that time of year, with autumn just turning, the first signs of fall spreading across the greens of the trees, the air crisp in the day and cool at night.

  
Mal - wearing slim jeans and a black leather jacket - always looked as if she could step in front of a camera or onto a runway, Her dark brown hair was long then, lush in curls and waves that fell over her shoulders and made her blue eyes shine all the more. She wore ankle high, heeled boots and no make up, though still looked airbrushed and flawless. She held Eames’ arm as they chatted. Eames - younger then, thinner and slender, clean shaven and just off a flight from London. He wore jeans and trainers along with a dark blue coat with a fur lining around the collar. He left it open so he felt the wind against the chest of his thin white shirt.

  
He and Mal seemed like a couple, but as nice as they looked together - and even though Eames had entertained the idea of pursuing Mal once - he had dismissed the thoughts when he realized he had more friendly feelings towards her. Besides, she was smitten with Dominic Cobb and that was that.

  
She was explaining the latest job she was bringing him on and he was half listening, half watching their route. He wasn’t surprised when they stopped and entered the Hotel de Nell, a lovely place close to the Palais Royal Gardens, something he was sure was all Mal’s doing. They chatted more in the elevator, Mal digging through her pockets and retrieving a tube of lip gloss and taking advantage of the reflective panels to apply it. When she was done, she pressed her lips together as she recapped it and said,

  
“We’ve brought a new point on board.”

  
“Mmm.”

  
It was all Eames could really manage. He was scrolling through his phone, trying to adjust from his flight, seeing he had a few missed calls and no texts.

  
They walked to the room and Mal again pulled a card key from her coat, and after opening the door and letting them both in, the first person Eames saw was Dom. Dom was an old acquaintance who Eames had only gotten to know better because of Mal. They essentially ran in the same circles, did some jobs together, but managed to be nothing more than casual work partners. When Mal came into the picture he saw Dom more, spoke to him more, respected him a bit more though he always wondered why Mal wasted her time on someone so painfully average. Dom stood from the chair in the small sitting area, the PASIV on the table as he approached Eames with a smile.

  
“Hey, long time no see.”

  
Eames nodded and agreed.

  
“It’s been a bit. How you’ve been Dom?”

  
“Good, can’t complain. Thanks for coming on the job.”

  
Eames nodded again as he saw Dom was a little better dressed than the last couple of times he had seen him, with nicely pressed black pants, his white oxford undone at the collar, and his sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He was better put together than Eames was. As Eames' eyes went over the room, he saw who must have been the new point man on the job. He was young and all length and properly dressed in soft brown khakis and a dark brown marino jumper. Underneath he wore a white oxford with black pinstripes and a blood red tie, and the outfit was topped off with a pair of black leather shoes. When the young man stood up, he walked over to Dom and Dom put his hand behind his shoulder in a friendly manner as he said,

  
“Sorry, I don’t know where my manners are. Eames, this is our new point man, Arthur.”

  
Arthur extended his hand to Eames. At once Eames took it and took a firm hold, and felt Arthur do the same as he smiled politely. Eames suddenly found himself to be a bit smitten by the dimple that appeared on the right side of Arthur's face.

  
“Nice to meet you Mr. Eames.”

  
“Just Eames, love. Good to meet you too.”

 

+

That was their first job together. Eames was impressed by the intelligence and attention to detail that Arthur brought to the job, and when he teased him lightly, he loved the angry pout that appeared on Arthur's face, the tips of his adorable ears turning red as he bit back his frustration.

  
And though he fancied Arthur throughout the job, as soon as it was over, he kissed Mal on the cheek, shook both Dom and Arthur's hands, and promptly collected his money before leaving.

  
After that, whenever Mal called for a job, Eames went, no matter where he was at the time. And he was always pleased to see that Arthur was there as well. The three of them were like a little family, and Eames always felt as if he was intruding upon them despite the fact that Mal would sit and chat with Eames when they worked. It was mainly because Eames the only one who enabled Mal’s terrible smoking habit, and they usually knocked back a few drinks in between test runs and after hours. She was a well of information, chatting about Arthur and what he was up to, how she saw him in between jobs and little things about him that Eames ate up.

  
“He’s a love isn’t he?”

  
“He is.”

  
Mal gave him a look but Eames refused to acknowledge it then.

  
Periodically, Mal would call him, just to see him because after all, they had been friends for some time. Mal was the only woman, aside from his mum, that Eames really and truly adored. Eames loved to visit her Paris flat, a gift from her father that had a view of Notre Dame from the tiny terrace where they often stood and smoked. Inside it was all very lady-like, feminine and soft with tea roses in white china cups, Victorian style chase lounges and sheer flowing curtains. Mal had a proper tea set - bone white with hand painted blue designs and a matching tea pot - that she always pulled out and showed off to Eames. She went out of her way to make tea sandwiches and crumpets, arranging everything on an antique silver tray while the kettle was on. Eames sat at her round, tiny white table with a lace tablecloth over it, the chairs with thick wine colored cushions and scrolled feet at the base. He took the time to look, to see what was new and all he could pick out was a picture of her and Dom in a Wedgewood frame.

  
Mal appeared then, holding her tray with her fancy tea set on it as she smiled proudly and set it down. Her hair was piled on her head in a messy fashion, but she wore jeans and a large, oversized white sweater with socks on her feet. She sat down beside Eames after pouring some tea and then handed him a smaller plate for crumpets and sandwiches.

  
“So. Tell me what’s been going on with you. Any more adventures? Troubles you’re avoiding?”

  
He laughed a bit and took a lemon wedge from the tray along with the tiny tongs for the sugar cubes.

  
“Got into a tight spot in Monte Carlo. Everything went pear shaped during a game and...well...I have to stay away from there for a while, which is a shame because it’s so lovely this time of year.”

  
Mal laughed, taking a sandwich for herself. Eames sipped his tea, feeling the heat bite at the top of his lip as he then said,

  
“And you?”

  
“Things are getting serious with Dom.”

  
“Where is the dashing man anyway?”

  
“Working with my father and Arthur. What do you think of him?”

  
“Dominic Cobb...well he’s....plain.”

  
“He is not!”

  
Eames laughed at her declaration as she nudged him with her elbow, minding her tea and saucer.

  
“You’ve known more vivid people in your lifetime, Mal.”

  
“You for one.”

  
“We’re not talking about me now. We’re talking about your Dom.”

  
“But do you think he’s a good man?”

  
“Does he make you happy? Has he ever made you cry out of sadness?”

  
Mal answered accordingly as Eames took another sip.

  
“Then I like him. He’s good for you. He can’t control you but then again, who could?”

  
She laughed again and Eames decided he would always love the sound of her laugh. She looked at her tea cup, running her elegant fingers along the rim as she said,

  
“What do you think of Arthur?”

  
Eames couldn’t help but feel the little tug on the corners of his mouth at the sound of his name. Even the way it rolled off his tongue delighted him.

  
“He’s interesting.”

  
“I see something there.”

  
“No, you don’t. Don’t start playing cupid just because you’re in love. He’s lovely but he’s not my type. A little too wound up for my tastes.”

  
She scoffed at him but Eames stuck to his story.

 

+

It was almost a year later that Eames sat in his rented flat in Bruges wearing only a pair of pajama pants, going through his phone as he let his coffee cool near his arm. It was warm and his flat carried a wonderful breeze that allowed just the pants and not much of anything else. At night, he slept in sheets, the blankets bunched at his feet. He had just finished a job and he should have been packing to leave, but the job had gone fairly well and there was no rush to flee. He set his phone down and picked up his mug, but just as he took a drink his phone vibrated against the table. It kept going until Eames picked it up and saw the number and name on his screen.

  
“Well, hello Mallorie. It’s been some time.”

  
She laughed quietly as she replied.

  
“Hello, Eames. Has it really? We saw each other three months ago.”

  
“Ah yes, but you haven’t called since. I’m hurt.”

  
He teased her. They had seen each other three months ago on another job that was cut and dry, made easier by Arthur’s ever professional skills. He couldn’t help but flirt in a subtle manner then, letting his fingers brush over Arthur’s when he borrowed a pen, leaning over his shoulder just a little longer than necessary, letting Arthur hear how much Eames enjoyed saying his name and watching the pout form on his face as he would grin in amusement. He had forgotten Mal’s attempts at matchmaking and he didn’t see her coy little smile or her whispers to Dom - though he did see Dom’s disapproving scowl and he wondered why it appeared.

  
“You didn’t exactly call me either.”

  
He picked up then that she was whispering and Eames rested on his elbow as he said,

  
“Mal, why are you whispering?”

  
He heard shuffling, the soft sighs of clothing being rustled and muffled sounds before the click of a door followed.  
“Dom is here.”

  
“Ah, well that explains it.”

  
“Eames, he asked me to marry him.”

  
There was a bit of a knot in his chest when Mal told him that. Concern about how much things would change, how his life long friend would change, how the flat he had always thought of as ladylike would be burdened with plainness and simplicity if not gone altogether once she had children. And Mal wouldn’t be just his Mal any longer, but now Mrs. Cobb - Dom’s Mal. He cleared his throat a bit as he said,

  
“That’s wonderful news, darling. Assuming you said yes.”

  
“I did. Are you happy for me?”

  
“If I wasn’t would it matter?”

  
“Of course it would matter.”

  
He heard the sadness in her tone, the real possibility that she would change her mind and give Dom back his ring and reject his proposal if Eames was against the idea. He smiled softly, looking down at the table as he held his mug.

  
“I am happy for you, Mal. Truly I am. I need to see the two of you soon. Still in Paris?”

  
He could feel her light up as she sighed deeply and answered him.

  
“Yes, still. Will you come soon? In the next few days?”

  
“I just so happened to have finished a job here so the timing is perfect. I’ll be on the next plane out.”


	2. Chapter 2

 

Over the next few months, Eames keeps his schedule light, because he now has engagement parties and celebratory events to attend. Each time, Eames would come across Arthur, the both of them spending some time talking, flirting (Arthur, much to Eames’ delight, laughing and smiling rather than recoiling in horror), and watching the happy couple - their coworkers and friends - about to join their lives together.

  
He could see something in Arthur’s eyes when he looked at Mal in the distance, and at first he thought the younger man may have been carrying a torch for her - but when they spoke, after Arthur got a bit of wine in him and loosened his tongue, he realized that Arthur felt the same way about Mal, the way Eames did. He loved her, cherished her, believed he was as special in her life the way she was in his.

  
Mal had a way about her to make everyone feel like that.

  
Eames could only nod and listen, feeling relief within himself knowing it wasn’t just him that felt as if Mal was being taken away.

  
They traveled to California to meet with Dom’s family and as Mal began to plan the wedding, she decided it would be easier to have it there in California, rather than Paris. Eames was surprised and thought it unlike her but she easily explained.

  
“It’s my parents and a few people here and there. Dom’s family is much larger. It’s just easier.”

  
She booked the beautiful Art Nouveau in Pasadena, the entire ballroom black and white, elegant and classic with botanical chandeliers with a foyer leading outside to a large terrace where the wedding service would be held. The whole place was so typically Mal and Eames enjoyed seeing the photos and listening to her talk about it because he felt as if they would be the last he would see of her and the spark he loved so much.

  
The day of Mal’s wedding, Eames showed up on time, having been in Pasadena for the last few days, entertaining Dom with Arthur. Mal had a rehearsal dinner the night before with Dom’s family, her parents coming in from Paris and key members of her family joining them, Eames and of course Arthur. He sat beside Arthur at the dinner and they spoke of nothing except of meeting up again at the reception the next day. He wore a light gray suit and soft blue tie, white oxford and black leather shoes, a blue pocket square in the breast pocket of his coat. After paying his cab, he went inside the venue and found his way to Mal’s dressing room where she was ready.

  
Her gown was a classic sweetheart beaded lace trumpet gown - beaded lace on the shirred bodice, strapless with a sweep train. Her dark hair was curled and pulled over her shoulder, her cathedral veil with scalloped edges clipped at the crown of her head. She stood up with a smile when she saw Eames, putting her arms around him as she kissed his cheek.

  
“I’m so glad you came.”

  
“As if I would sit through all your planning and then not show up in the end.”

  
She laughed softly as she held his hands and she took a deep breath as Eames said,

  
“You look beautiful.”

  
“A line heard by so many.”

  
Eames laughed as she did too.

  
“I mean it this time.”

  
“Thank you. I’m nervous.”

  
“You have nothing to be nervous about.”

  
She gave a small smile as she looked at him.

  
“You look handsome.”

  
He only smiled back at her in response.

+

  
The wedding went off smoothly, quickly, Eames hardly paid attention to it, only snapping out of his thoughts when he heard the applause and looked back just in time to see Dom and Mal kiss. After the newly wedded couple left the terrace, the crowd was ushered inside where cocktail hour began, soft music playing as waiters carried trays of champagne and hor d’oeuvres. Eames found Arthur and handed him a flute with a strawberry bobbing inside, the first of many, as the younger man thanked him.They talked throughout the hour and once seated, had dinner together and shared a few laughs. Eames danced with the bride, seeing the glow on her face, the happiness that just made him feel happy as well as he said,

  
“You’re a beautiful bride Mal. I can’t tell you enough. I should have married you when I had the chance.”

  
She laughed the laugh he fell in love with as she said,

  
“Right, a beautiful bride for a moment, a miserable wife the rest of my life.”

  
“It wouldn’t be all bad.”

  
“Mmm until you leave me for some dashing younger man.”

  
He scoffed at her but he couldn’t help but immediately find Arthur when he broke his gaze away from Mal. Arthur was talking with Dom, the both of them holding flutes, and though the conversation looked serious Dom soon laughed and nodded as someone else then joined them. Arthur took a drink and looked up just then, meeting Eames’ eyes. He didn’t break the look and neither did Eames, and once the song was over Mal went to dance with her husband as Eames headed to the bar - getting a drink as Arthur began to leave. He watched Arthur leave calmly, his hands in his pockets, only pausing once to look over his shoulder to make sure Eames was watching him. Eames finished his drink in record time, tipping the bartender and just as slowly leaving the ballroom and heading out to follow Arthur. The two of them ended up in the private dressing room Mal once occupied, Arthur lingering further up ahead, opening the door and then standing outside, hand resting on the knob until he saw Eames was coming to join him.

  
Arthur had worn an elegant suit of black with a black oxford and tie. He was the only one Eames knew that could pull it off with such grace. His hair was slicked back, a weak attempt in looking older but it really made his ears appear all the more tipped out.

  
Eames had opened Arthur’s coat and rested his hands on his slender hips as he pressed him against the door to keep their privacy. He devoured his mouth with deliberate slowness, letting the ache build up between them as Arthur kissed back - his hands on Eames’ shoulders, his slender fingers digging into the fabric of his coat as he sighed softly each time Eames pulled back and then returned, slotting his thigh between Arthur’s. He ate up each sigh, each moan, each flick of Arthur’s tongue against his own as he gripped his waist. When Eames pulled back to look at him, he licked his lips, taking in the taste of Arthur’s mouth - mingling with the whisky he just consumed moments earlier - and he thought of saying something, anything but instead he kissed him again and again.

  
He lost track of how long they were in that silent room, the echo of the music from the ballroom vibrating through floor until Arthur pulled back - his face flushed, his lips wet as he closed his eyes, tipping his head back as he said,

  
“I should go.”

  
Eames leaned closer to him, kissing the corner of his mouth, hearing him sigh softly as his mouth followed the path of his jawline, his teeth catching his earlobe as he flicked it with the tip of his tongue then nipping it carefully before moving up to the curved shell that stuck out ever so slightly. Arthur made a weak little noise, his breath snagging in his throat as he licked his lips, his fingers pressing harder against his shoulders. Eames had wanted to do that since the moment they met and seen the red collect at the tips of his ears. He moved back, capturing his lips again, swallowing his moan as he pressed himself closer, feeling Arthur’s arms ease over his shoulders and holding onto him as he kissed back. Arthur turned his head, whispering again, trying to pull himself away as he moved his arms back and pressed his hands against Eames’ shoulders.

  
“They’ll notice we’re missing.”

  
“Come back to my room tonight.”

  
Arthur shook his head, gathering more of his strength as he added pressure to his touch, making Eames move back a little more.

  
“No. I shouldn’t have even let it get this far.”

  
Eames sighed, slowly letting him go as Arthur fell lax against the door, his chest rising and falling quickly as Eames buttoned his coat and reached for his phone.

  
“Then if I moved too quickly for you, love, at least give me your mobile.”

  
Arthur smiled at him, standing up straight again, buttoning his coat as well before he said,

  
“I already have your number.”

  
Eames felt the information swim in his head for a moment before he grinned at him, watching Arthur step back from the door as he opened it and began to step out, looking at Eames once more before leaving, slipping back into the reception.

+

  
The following day, Mal and Dom went off on their honeymoon, leaving Eames with little option but to wait for Arthur’s call.  
  
It came the day after Mal left, Eames was still in Pasadena wondering if he should leave or wait. Never one to be stricken or left longing, he decided he would wait just one day, then head to London and wait out another job.

  
As his phone rang and he saw the unknown number, he picked up and heard Arthur’s voice on the other end.

  
“I didn’t think you would call.”

  
“Were you waiting for me to do so?”

  
“Just for the day.”

  
He heard Arthur’s soft laugh in response.

  
“Are you still in the area?”

  
“I might be.”

  
“I just want to get a bite to eat, darling, not bed you. You already turned me down, I don’t need to be told twice.”

  
“That’s good to know. Lunch would be nice.”

  
They met for lunch while they were in Pasadena, then for dinner, then other lunches, dinners, drinks, coffee and the entire time, as much as it ached Eames to ask him, he never did ask Arthur to return to his room again. They spent that time talking, getting to know each other better, only getting caught up once in the rented car Arthur had. They had just come back from dinner and drinks, Arthur about to drop off Eames at his hotel when they kissed good night. Eames held his face, his hand cupping his jaw as he tilted his head towards him, feeling Arthur kiss him back just as deeply. It weighed on his tongue, the opportunity present and when Arthur pulled back, Eames sighed and let him go.

  
“Good night, Arthur.”

  
Arthur looked taken aback, his eyes turning looking down for just a moment before he looked back at Eames.

  
“Good night, Eames.”

  
He watched as Eames undid his seltbelt then opened the door as he stepped out and closed the door, walking into his hotel as he sighed to himself.

+

  
Their little holiday was soon over when Mal and Dom returned. It was almost as if Eames was waiting for them to come back, to bring him onto another job though he was perfectly capable of finding his own work.

  
He didn’t want to admit it, he could hardly admit it to himself but the truth was simple. He wanted to work with Arthur and Mal and Dom were his only way to him. He didn’t want to be occupied with something else when Mal did eventually call him.

  
When she did, both he and Arthur had long left California and by then, they had developed a solid, somewhat professional friendship. So Arthur went...somewhere and Eames returned to London. He was in his flat, nursing a mug of tea, scrolling through his laptop when his phone rang. He looked away from his screen, his phone beside his laptop on the coffee table as he picked up when he saw it was Mal.

  
“Hello Mrs. Cobb. How was the honeymoon?”

  
She laughed and he felt relief when he heard that laughter he so loved.

  
“It was lovely. We went on an Italian cruise...everything was delightful, the food delicious, the sights, everything. You would love Italy.”

  
“I’ve been duck, it is lovely.”

  
“When have you gone?”

  
“Three years ago on the Bosco job.”

  
“You only did the job and drank the best chianti until you got drunk because Barlow managed to nick it from the mark and then left hungover. I wouldn’t call that seeing the country.”

  
He laughed, knowing she was right. He barely remembered anything after the job.

  
“You know me too well.”

  
She laughed again as she then sighed and said,

  
“How is London now? I miss Paris.”

  
Mal had decided to live with Dom in California after they were married. It wasn’t an easily choice for her, her family still in Paris, but she was also ready for a change.

  
“It’s London, Mal. Not much has changed.”

  
“There’s a job coming up in Prague. We need a forger.”

  
“Why do you always call me when you need a forger?”

  
“Because you’re the best. Does that suit your ego enough?”

  
Eames chuckled as he kept scrolling through his laptop.

  
“It’ll suffice.”

+

  
He met with the newly wed Mal, Dom and Arthur in Prague about a week later. Mal had given him the short and sweet version of the job, better details were given when he got there and then the time line.

  
“We’ll be here about two months.”

  
Dom wrote on the whiteboard with a red marker, underlining the two month mark as he capped it and looked at his team. Two months to research, to learn and to get the mark and move on. It wasn’t much time and Arthur was the first to point that out.

  
“Why so little time?”

  
“Our employer says a merger will happen in that time. Our job is to thwart that merger, hence the short amount of time.”

  
Arthur looked frustrated as Mal sighed deeply and said,

  
“Let’s get to work.”

  
+

  
There were nights in that first month that Eames went back to his hotel while Arthur still worked. Most times alone, sometimes Dom stayed with him.

  
He would go back to his room, order dinner, watch terrible television and then fall asleep to his own notes and sketches of the mark, arrows and quick blurbs of what should be corrected all along the sides of his work. At the end of the first month, he was alone, supposedly working when he got side tracked online when he heard a soft knock at his door. He approached the door carefully, gun in hand when he heard,

  
"Eames, it's me."

  
He couldn't have opened the door faster.

  
Arthur stood there in his suit though he held his jacket in his hands and he no longer wore his tie. He looked tired and hungry and Eames let him in right away.

  
"I thought you would be working."

  
"I could say the same for you. "

  
Arthur had noted the open laptop with Gucci's fall line up on the page and Eames only grinned.

  
"Research, love."

  
Arthur gave a soft chuckle as he sat down at the table where Eames had worked and taken many lonely dinners. He sighed and said,

  
"I could eat now. Have you had dinner already? "

  
"Hours ago. But I'll sit with you."

  
He was already picking up the phone to call room service as Arthur looked at him and said,

  
“Thanks. Anything is fine.”

  
Eames had caught himself as he waited for someone to pick up, realizing he hadn’t even asked him what he wanted. He cleared his throat as he turned away, feeling himself sink in deeper.

  
Dinner was eventually brought up to Eames’ room and Arthur ate while Eames watched him. He had expected them to talk about work, the research, the mark, all of those things on the table spread out where Eames had left his papers. But Arthur set those aside when his food came and he didn’t say anything other than a thank you.

  
When he was done, the both of them sat down on Eames’ bed, the sheets and blankets unmade since Eames didn’t allow room service in when he was away. Eames sat on the side he had been sleeping on, up against the headboard as Arthur sat near the food of the bed, gradually laying across it as he toed off his shoes.

  
“You finally have me in your bed.”

  
Eames laughed as he realized the irony.

  
“It seems I do.”

  
They relaxed and while there was always something there between them, it was comfortable at that moment. As the conversation went on, Eames finally asked him,

  
“How did you meet Mal?”

  
Arthur turned on his side, the movement graceful and fluid as he drew his arm up to rest on his elbow as he rested his cheek against his hand. His free hand followed the pattern on the blanket as he looked at it and then at Eames.

  
“I went to school with Dom for architecture and design. When we finished, he had gotten some contacts about a program in France and he got me in and we went. There we met Professor Miles and he picked out his best students to do a graduate study. At least that’s what he told us.”

  
Eames nodded, a small smile on his face knowing fully well what the study was.

  
“Dom and I were the last ones standing when it was over. And one day after Professor Miles explained the PASIV and what it does, Mal came in and stole Dom’s heart. She was already aware of her father’s work and getting us in was just a matter of her liking us. And she loved Dom and she loved me too. She’s like...I don’t know how to explain her. She’s like a wind that brushes across your face. A warm spring day. Something beautiful you can’t contain but appreciate nonetheless.”

  
Eames listened and realized just how accurate that description was.

  
“How about you? How did you meet Mal?”

  
Arthur pushed himself up then and waited for Eames to talk. He walked through his memories, trying to recall when he did meet Mal and when he remembered it, he laughed.

  
“I was doing business in London. Through some contacts, I heard someone was looking for proper forgeries and when I met with them, it was Mal. She was tough, despite her looking like a light, willowy little sparrow and she put up with none of my nonsense.”

  
Arthur laughed now and Eames felt his heart hammer away when he realized it was because of him that Arthur smiled. He continued.

  
“She loved my work. And the more we met, talked...she told me of her father’s project. I had always heard that, that was bullshit hearsay but when Mal told me, I knew it was real.”

  
“So illegal since the beginning huh?”

  
Eames looked at him with a smirk.

  
“Not so much illegal as it’s more frowned upon.”

  
There was silence for a moment until Eames said,

  
“So you’ve always known Dom.”

  
Arthur nodded as he said,

  
“And you Mal.”

  
“It was destined for us to meet then.”

  
Arthur rolled his eyes as he scoffed.

  
“God, that was lame.”

  
Eames laughed as he leaned over, getting closer to him as he slid his fingers over Arthur’s exposed wrist, the tips of his fingers smoothing over the rounded bone of his joint.

  
“Lame, but still true.”

  
Arthur was still amused but he nodded anyway and he expected Eames to kiss him, but he watched as he just left his fingers where they were, still softly rubbing the skin on his wrist.


	3. Chapter 3

For the next month, Arthur showed him heaven.

  
They all worked together, and when it was over they went their separate ways. But whenever Arthur finished, he would show up at Eames' door. At first, Eames took it as a novelty but soon he came to expect Arthur at his door in the late hours past midnight. They took their meals together, went over notes and research, sometimes getting into heated discussions into the way things should go, but in the end they were resolved and they found new respect for each other.

  
Before the first month was over, they fell into routine of meeting up, eating, working and slowly falling into each other's arms and kissing slowly, passionately. Eames began to see it as a precursor, foreplay, Arthur too professional to come out and say what he wanted.

  
Eames played his game. Feigning ignorance and being coy to what they both wanted, maddened with the idea of prying it out of Arthur.

  
They would kiss for hours, and it would be days before Eames even moved his hands to touch Arthur over his clothes above his waist. He found that as soon as he did, Arthur would follow his lead. As everything progressed, Eames made his move, laying them back in his unmade bed, settling his weight over Arthur evenly, slotting his thigh between his and raising it up ever so slowly, pressing it against his erection. He was delighted to even feel that, and even more than so when Arthur rut against his leg slowly, making delicious little noises that Eames lapped up. He let his hand slide down Arthur's chest, his fingers toying with the buttons on his pressed and neat white oxford and as one came undone, Arthur's slender fingers began to undo Eames' shirt.

  
He only pulled away to sit up and take off the offending article of clothing and help Arthur untuck and undo the rest of his shirt before helping him out of it. It dawned on him that Arthur was willing - and more over, eager for him. His finely polished and professional grip was slipping as he reached for the button on the front of Eames' trousers. He moaned against Arthur's mouth as he felt his hand slip inside, cupping him through his boxer briefs, elegant fingers rubbing, feeling, anxious to touch more as his dick hardened in his hand. Eames took the invitation to return the favor, undoing Arthur's pants and easing his hand in, deepening their kiss as he heard him moaning, his leg shifting to accommodate his hand.

  
He thought of stopping, of asking him something, but his mind overruled such thoughts, remembering Mal’s wedding - in that dressing room where he never hesitated and he managed to get Arthur to keep kissing him. He kept going, eventually becoming annoyed with the fabric of his soft and contouring briefs and he moved his hand back only to slide it back inside, feeling heated skin and his lovely cock.

  
He was sure it was lovely even though he hadn’t seen it. Just the feel of it alone, the weight, the length, how right it felt in his hand and the weak little whimpers that escaped Arthur’s mouth were almost enough to get Eames off.

  
God, the power Arthur held in a simple breath. Eames knew at that moment how smitten he truly was.

  
He brushed his thumb over the head, wiping away the bead of moisture, intrigued at the lack of foreskin, dying to put his mouth on him and bring Arthur to completion as he moved his wrist, fingers gripping him as he felt Arthur’s hand slack against his own arousal - but he didn’t care. Eames moved back, kissing the corner of his mouth, wanting to hear him as he went to his ear, sucking the lobe before flicking his tongue against it, hearing shaky little moans leaving Arthur’s mouth, his head turning as he let Eames go further, allowing access to the rest of his ear, to his jaw, his throat. Eames took full of advantage, nipping, licking at his skin as he felt Arthur’s free hand on his forearm as his other hand clung to the waistband of his underwear.  
  
He kept going, breathing hard against his ear, listening to Arthur, feeling his body shiver and shake and tense up as he pressed his fingers harder into Eames’ forearm. When Arthur turned towards him, pressing his cheek against Eames’ unshaved cheek as he let out a weak sob, Eames knew he was close. He picked up his pace, feeling Arthur lifting his hips to his fist, his entire body taut as he dug his fingers hard into Eames’ skin, the only warning Arthur gave as he came. Eames was delighted he witnessed it, heard it, watched the entire thing unfold before him. He kept going, urging every drop from him, seeing Arthur trembling, his face flushed, his eyes closing as he gasped and then licked his lips. When he was done, Eames moved his hand away and wiped it off on the blanket, not caring since it wasn’t his. He leaned down, kissing Arthur’s wet mouth, feeling him weakly kiss back. As he moved away, giving him air, he heard him whisper

“Sorry…”

  
“That was the end goal, darling. You have nothing to apologize for.”

  
Arthur laughed softly.

  
“I mean sorry that I just left you wanting.”

  
Eames paused for a moment and swallowed hard as he felt a knot forming.

  
“Are you...leaving?”

  
Arthur looked up at him and urged him to come back closer, kissing him.

  
“No. Unless you want me to go.”

  
“I don’t.”

  
“Then, I’ll stay.”

  
“In that case, you have the rest of the night to make it up to me.”

Arthur smiled again, dimples appearing and he laughed his soft laugh which made Eames feel as if he could love it as much as did Mal's.

 

+

  
Arthur did make it up to Eames that night. All night, only stopping when they fell asleep from exhaustion around five in the morning.

  
Eames only woke up when he felt Arthur shifting, moving to the edge of the bed to reach for his phone on the night stand. He was on his stomach, the sheets pulled tight across his shoulder as his arm stuck out from under them. His hair was a tousled mess, sweat and movement across the bed and pillows broke it free from its gelled state and Eames wanted so much to see it natural. He turned on his side, resting his hand on Arthur’s bare back, watching as his shivered and looked back over his shoulder.

  
“Hey, good morning.”

  
Eames leaned over, kissing his shoulder, then him.

  
“Good morning. What time is it?”

  
“Nine. I have to meet Dom and Mal soon. We have to work.”

  
Eames hummed, loathing the idea of getting out of that bed, pulling away from Arthur.

  
“Yeah.”

  
Arthur sighed, his body falling back on the bed, as he turned his head towards Eames.

  
“I’m exhausted.”

  
“Me too.”

  
“We should have gone to bed earlier.”

  
“We should have.”

  
A coy little smile appeared on Arthur’s mouth and Eames couldn’t help but smile back at him.

  
“You’ll come back tonight, right?”

  
Arthur nodded, and it was only that promise that let Eames let him go.

Arthur dressed again and urged Eames to hurry since he would probably be late and kissed him once more before leaving to return to his room. Eames showered and dressed and got some coffee before heading out to the flat they were renting as a work space for the job.

  
He was late of course, still yawning as he removed his sunglasses, holding his half empty cup of coffee now as everyone turned to watch him. Arthur looked as if he slept a full eight hours and then some, his finely pressed dark blue suit in place, his hair back in proper order. Dom wore a suit of gray, his coat hanging on the chair he was sitting on and Mal wore a black pencil skirt with a white blouse, her hair pulled over her shoulder as she smiled at him.

  
She was the only one who did, and she got up from the table she had been sitting to walk over to him. Mal kissed his cheek and Eames smiled at her.

  
“Sorry I’m late, love. I overslept.”

  
There was nothing that gave a clue in her lovely face that showed she knew anything, but Eames still felt that she did know, somehow.

  
“It’s all right, Eames. We were just going over some notes. Did you eat?”

  
Eames shook his head and let Mal lead him into the flock as he sat down and tried to listen as Arthur continued to speak.

  
+

  
He found it hard to concentrate, to listen, not just from the lack of sleep, but from looking at Arthur. He found that even the slightest show of his skin - from his wrist, to his throat, all of it was enticing, lovely - made him remember the shape of his shoulders, the curve of his hips, the slope of his lower back. His mind helpfully replayed all the delightful sounds Arthur had made last night, even the taste of his sweat lingered on Eames’ tongue as he spaced out, only coming back as Mal touched his hand.

  
He flinched, realizing he hadn’t done anything, his page blank and he dropped his pencil as Mal looked at him concerned.

  
“You all right?”

  
Eames nodded, leaning down to pick up his pencil from the floor and sitting back up again.

  
“Just miles away. Sorry about that.”

  
Mal let it go, but she looked concerned nonetheless.

The job continued and after they packed up that night, Eames went ahead to his room. As he waited, he begin to wonder if Arthur would really show up. He paced at first, then sat down and decided to work instead, seeing as he had hardly gotten anything done. He sketched and tried his best to concentrate, but when he looked back at his page, he saw he had drawn Arthur’s wrists and hands.

  
After about an hour Arthur knocked on his door, and Eames felt the knot that had been forming in his chest loosen as he let him in. He let out a soft sigh of relief when he saw Arthur and he closed the door behind him as Arthur said,

  
“I’m sorry I’m so late. Dom kept working and I couldn’t rush through or he would start asking questions.”

  
“It’s all right. I was working anyway.”

  
He gestured to the open sketch book, grateful he had flipped back to his notes rather than the sketches of Arthur’s delicate wrists.

  
“Dinner?”

  
Arthur nodded as he took off his coat and began undoing his tie as Eames went to call room service.

  
After eating and a bit of work where Eames finally got something done, they tumbled into bed together. Eames couldn’t get enough of Arthur’s soft skin, the hint of his expensive cologne undermined by a brush of spice and floral, the taste of him hot in his mouth, Arthur’s thighs tight against his sides as he held onto Eames, his arms around his shoulders, fingers buried in his hair. Eames whispered Arthur's name against his throat, listening to Arthur pant and moan, his entire body burning against his own, greedy as he swallowed up his cock, urging Eames to move faster, his hands and feet pulling Eames closer to him, lifting his hips up to meet him halfway to each thrust.

  
It was even better than the first time.

  
After the orgasm, the crush of pleasure that made Eames hear white noise and see stars, they settled down, gasping for air. He hated that he had to get up to throw out the condom but after cleaning up, he returned to bed, lying on his side as he threw his arm over Arthur. He felt the younger man turning towards him, scooting over as he tucked his head under Eames’ chin, his own slender arm going over his side as he yawned, his breath warm against his chest.

  
“I’m exhausted.”

  
Arthur laughed softly.

  
“Me too. It was a long day.”

“You wouldn’t know the way you were put together.”

  
“Triple shot espresso lattes get you through the day.”

  
Eames laughed a little as he yawned, sliding his arm under the pillow, pulling it closer to his face as he began to feel the weight of sleep tugging him down.

  
“I could go for another round.”

  
“The mind is willing but the flesh is weak.”

  
With his eyes half closed, his body already shutting down, he still smiled at the thought that Arthur wanted him as much as he wanted him. He felt his soft lips at his throat, leaving soft little kisses against his skin.

  
“In the morning, ok?”

  
“Ok.”

 

+

 

Oh, and what a morning it was.

  
Arthur woke him up by blowing him and when Eames was close, Arthur moved away and got on top of him, riding him fast to bring them both off quickly.

  
Afterwards, Eames nodded off as Arthur showered and dressed back in his suit from the previous day, gathering his tie and underwear, rolling them up and tucking them into his jacket pockets. The very idea of Arthur going commando made Eames sit right up, sheets still over his waist, one of his feet sticking out from underneath as he watched Arthur sitting on the chair, pulling his shoes on and tying them up. When he was done, he walked over to Eames and leaned down, kissing him as he said,

  
“I’ll see you at work.”

  
Eames nodded and watched Arthur go.

  
It was an unspoken rule that whatever was happening between them, stayed between them. It would be complicated enough trying to explain to their friends what they were when they themselves hadn’t even figured it out.

  
The remainder of the month went on like that and each day, Eames did better on the job, paying a bit more attention - though easily getting side tracked if they were left alone, stealing kisses when Dom and Mal went under and Eames was supposed to be researching while Arthur monitored them. It was fun and exciting and thrilling, and each night Eames got to spend with Arthur he felt something growing, not just in him but between them.

  
He loved how Arthur looked at him.

  
He loved how Arthur said his name.

  
He loved how Arthur would touch his arm, his shoulder, his leg, whatever he could reach when they sat side by side on the bed working. He was usually distracted when he did it, but it was one of those little things that Eames adored about him.

  
He loved how Arthur looked when he came, how he cursed as if surprised by it, how his whole body wound down from his orgasm.

  
He loved the sound of Arthur’s breathing when he slept, his laugh, his moan, the breathy, almost whining whimpers he made when Eames thrust into him.

  
He loved Arthur.

  
And how he wished he could say it without it sounding so desperate and clingy. So he kept it to himself and kept on as they were. The last thing he wanted was to scare him off considering they had just spent a solid month together - despite the wanting being there for a while before that.

 

+

  
All too soon, the job was over.

  
It went smoothly enough and as they left, Eames couldn’t help but steal a glance at Arthur, who was so calm despite him holding the PASIV and all of them trying to leave and then separate so as not to draw attention to themselves.

  
Eames went back to his room to wait knowing Dom and Mal would leave first. He wasn’t sure what Arthur was doing and he regretted not talking to him about it.

  
He packed his few belongings, leaving his bag by the door and kept his more personal items closer to him on the nightstand - gun, wallet, passport, cellphone all waiting should shit hit the fan. He paced, wondering if Arthur had left already, if he should leave, chiding himself for putting himself in possible danger, despite the job having gone incredibly well.

  
When there was a knock on the door, he opened it - stupidly he thought later, without checking - only to see Arthur standing there. He held his own bag, his coat in his hand as he smiled at Eames.

  
“May I come in?”

  
Eames stepped aside and let him, closing and locking the door behind him.

He should have thought things clearly, but that was the problem when one gets caught up in sentiment and emotion.

  
He scolded himself for that as well.

  
The following morning, he woke up and he knew the bed was empty but he thought that Arthur was just in the shower. He threw back the sheets and got up, padding to the bathroom with a yawn to join him, slowly coming out of his haze as he realized there was no water running. He peeked in anyway but the light wasn’t even on.

  
He looked around the room and saw it empty, the hotel room furniture and his own belongs being the only things that remained. As he went back to the bed, he sat down on the edge and looked towards the nightstand, seeing just his things there and he sighed to himself.

  
“Not even a note…”


	4. Chapter 4

Eames went home shortly after that.

  
He batted around questions in his mind over and over again, torturing himself with the idea of Arthur just leaving him high and dry.

  
He couldn’t even get a hold of him on his phone, the number proved to be useless when he tried it.  
There were many sleepless nights when he got back to London, his mind not letting him rest, replaying the month he spent with Arthur and wondering where he went wrong. He just couldn’t see it. What had he done to offend him that he would leave without a word?

  
He didn’t dare ask Mal.

  
When she called, they spoke like normal, chatting about their days, their respective cities, Mal inviting him out to spend a weekend out with them in California to which Eames accepted for a later date.

  
But when he was alone, he beat himself up and missed Arthur.

  
He was heart broken and he hated himself for feeling that way, and he knew London was not the place to be in such a state. He quickly packed his bags again and headed to see Yusuf.

  
Yusuf had been his mate for many years; on and off transactions and business deals had kept them in touch but now it was time for just a friendly visit. He knew Yusuf wouldn’t ask questions and he needed to get Arthur out of his mind.

  
Mombasa was hot. There was a dry, constant and insistent heat that hung in the air but Eames welcomed it. The change was what he needed, and Yusuf invited him into his home where they drank cold beer and hung out on his balcony that stuck out right over a local store as the overhead fan spun the dry air.

  
“How was Prague?”

  
Eames took the cigar from his mouth as he looked at Yusuf and exhaled. He squinted at him slightly, the sun in his eye, as he asked,

  
“How did you know about that?”

“You told me about it before you left.”

  
“Oh right. Sorry, the past month was...difficult.”

  
“Ah.”

  
He knew Yusuf had some idea of what he meant by difficult, but he didn’t pry and Eames was oh-so grateful for that. The last thing he wanted to do was reopen such a fresh wound.

  
He spent the remainder of the month in Mombasa, soaking up the heat, getting some color on his skin and enjoying Yusuf’s company. Before he wore out his welcome, he headed to California to visit Mal and Dom. His first night there, Mal made dinner and they all talked, keeping the topic light and casual so they could all have something to say.

  
When Dom went to his office to get some work done, Mal took Eames to the back porch where she had a table and chairs of black iron on the dark wooden deck, flat wide stones forming a path to cut across the bright green grass and torches to keep away the insects. Mal had an ashtray ready and when she sat down, Eames found himself longing for her flat in Paris.

  
“It’s a long ways from your flat, love.”

  
Mal knew what he meant and she looked down, smiling sadly as she said,

  
“I know. But I have my tea set. I’ll make you a cup and we can sit here and pretend it’s home.”

  
She lit a cigarette and Eames took a long drag of his own, Mal doing the same as she looked out in the distance of the garden. Their house was beautiful and not at all typical because Mal would die in such constraints. It had been decorated to her taste and yet some how, Eames didn’t see any of her in it.

  
He regretted telling her she should marry Dom.

  
He tapped his cigarette against the ashtray as Mal tucked her hair behind her ear and looked at him as she said,

  
“Have you spoken to Arthur?”

  
The name which one brought him to such delights, the name he once held so fondly in his mouth that he only whispered against his skin now felt heavy and hurtful. He shook his head.

  
“Not since Prague.”

  
“It’s been a month, I thought you two were friends.”

  
“Colleagues, Mal. Nothing more.”

  
“He seemed comfortable around you. Not like he is around Dom, though. It was different with you.”

  
The words dug deep into the wound that he swore was causing him to bleed through his shirt and Mal would see. He even brought his hand to his chest and tugged at the fabric just to make sure but it seemed as if he was just hot. He brought his cigarette to his mouth and inhaled, then exhaled as he set his hand down on the table, the tips of his fingers following the iron scrolls of the pattern as he said,

  
“Just hopeful thinking on your part.”

  
‘ _And mine_ ’ his thoughts helpfully added.

  
Mal suddenly laughed her sweet laugh, only adding to Eames’ pain as she said,

  
“Then Dom’s too. He swore something was happening in Prague between the two of you. I told him he was insane.”

  
Eames chuckled, mostly out of self loathing.

  
“He is.”

 

+

 

After his weekend in California, Eames went back home and decided that he had to get over Arthur. Clearly, Arthur had put no stock into him and as a betting man, Eames knew a losing bet when he saw one. No sense in putting down money on a hopeless hand.

  
He took other jobs in between, no longer wanting to depend on whenever Mal would need him because he knew that would lead to Arthur. It was a steady few months of work, of travel to keep his mind and his hands busy and after that time, he felt it safe to answer to Mal’s plea to come on a job for her.

  
“You’ve been busy each time I called, I really need you on this one.”

  
Eames sighed, holed up in a nice little hotel in Switzerland, the snow coming in steady little clouds making his window view very picturesque. He could even see the Alps in the distance and he really didn’t want to travel while the holidays were approaching. He sighed deeply and loudly enough for Mal to hear as he said,

  
“Come on Mal, you don’t really.”

  
“I do. Please, Eames. We’ll be in Paris and Dom said we could stay to spend Christmas with my parents since Thanksgiving we were with his family. I know you’ll be alone and you’re my dearest friend...please do this for me.”

  
Eames hated that she knew he would be alone, probably soaked in whisky and poking away at an expensive meal. He sighed again, working up his barrier against Arthur, pushing the younger man from his mind, back into the depths of darkness where he belonged.

  
“All right Mal, for you. But only because you asked so nicely.”

  
She laughed and Eames felt his heart beat a little quicker.

 

+

  
It was cold in Paris when he landed, wearing his most comfortable clothes, not caring about looking like a slob when he would meet with the Cobbs. There was a light, almost transparent blanket of snow over everything in the city, the sidewalks clean from foot traffic, the streets lit up with the impending holidays. He walked into the lobby of the La Tremoille, fully decorated in tasteful white holiday lights, red poinsettias in white china pots settled on top of the glass check-in counter, a Christmas tree decorated near the entrance. He got some looks as he entered, jeans, trainers and a thick black North Face jacket not entirely becoming of the scene - but he ignored it as he headed to the elevators and texted Mal to know he arrived.

  
He spent the entire elevator trip building himself, preparing to see Arthur though he hoped that the younger man wouldn’t have taken the job. When he got to the suite and knocked, Mal answered and she smiled brightly as she threw her arms around him. She wore fitted black jeans and a white cowl neck sweater and black knee high heeled boots. She kissed his cheek and took his hand as she invited him in, talking, though Eames wasn’t really paying attention. The room was warm despite the walls being white and hardly covered, the furniture black with splashes of oranges, grays and reds along the smaller couches and love seats, the mirrors and tables black. When he saw Dom, he smiled and shook the other man’s hand and when he saw Arthur, he felt the very look of him strike him as if he had been hit by a car.

  
Considering how he felt inside, he held up considerably well as he shook Arthur’s hand and said,

  
“Hello, Arthur. Good to see you again.”

  
He read nothing on Arthur’s face as he replied,

  
“Good to see you too.”

  
+

 

The initial planning and details of the job were explained, Mal leading the way on this one and Eames paid full attention, just so he wouldn’t wander back to Arthur. They got started and once they called it a night, Eames picked up his duffel and headed out, saying bye to everyone as he left. He kissed Mal on the cheek and she grabbed his wrist before he left.

  
“Dinner?”

  
“No date with your husband, Mrs. Cobb?”

  
She gave him a look as she let him go.

  
“You know he’s busy right now. Come on, have dinner with me. We should catch up.”

  
“Sure, love. Come get me in about two hours. I need to shower and change.”

  
She nodded as he turned and left, going towards the elevator. Much to his horror, he saw Arthur waiting as well and he thought of bailing and heading towards the stairs but he wouldn’t be a coward like Arthur was.

  
He wouldn’t run.

  
He stood by him as they both waited, seeing they were both headed up and he looked up at the numbers, watching them climb up as he swore he felt Arthur look at him. They both got in once the doors opened and when the doors closed, he heard,

  
“You look good.”

  
Eames looked at him as he slipped his hands in the pockets of his coat.

  
“Yeah, been busy.”

  
Arthur nodded and Eames couldn’t believe this man had such a hold on him. He couldn’t wait to get out of such an enclosed space where the very sight of him drove him back to their first encounter, their first kiss, their first night together. Arthur treated him like a stranger which just made Eames want to smash his head against the doors, feeling stupid for being dragged along into whatever game Arthur was playing.

  
When the doors opened, Eames couldn’t get out fast enough.

  
Later that evening, he had dinner with Mal, taking care of his appearance, shaving and combing his hair and wearing his charcoal gray suit, braces and blue and white striped tie. Mal wore an elegant black halter dress, her dark brown hair loose and down her back, though parted on the side. When Eames joined her, they once again resumed the look of the perfect couple. They ate and had wine and as they waited for their espresso, they had cigarettes. Mal looked at him from across the table, her blue eyes sparkling and Eames smiled as he set his lighter down.

  
“So, what had you so busy that you couldn’t take on any jobs with me?”

  
Eames rolled his eyes as he took a drag from his cigarette.

  
“I needed to keep busy, that’s all.”

  
“Eames. Come on, I know you.”

  
She did. She knew him better than anyone had, better than anyone had ever bothered to try.

  
“If I tell you something, it stays at this table. Promise me this Mal. You can’t tell your husband. You can’t say a word to anyone.”

  
“I’ll take it to the grave, darling. Tell me.”

  
She reached across the table and held his free hand and Eames took a deep breath and leaned closer, minding the small potted candled on the white linen table top.

  
“During the Prague job, I slept with Arthur. But not just once or twice. The whole two months we were working. We had kept in touch since your wedding so when it happened...it was perfect.”

  
He paused when the waiter returned with their espresso and Mal sent him away with a quick ‘merci’ and then looked back at Eames, waiting for him to continue.

  
“I thought...God I can’t believe I’m saying this. I thought he felt the same way about me. But once the job was done, he took off without so much as even a word. He didn’t contact me in any way...didn’t even leave a note. And that was it. I didn’t want to see him for a while which is why when you called, I was busy. I knew he would be there and I didn’t...I couldn’t.”

  
“Oh...Eames.”

  
He felt her grip on his hand tighten as Eames sighed and held her hand back.

  
“It’s alright, Mal. It’s done. It’s over and I’m fine.”

  
She still frowned sadly at him, almost a sweet little pout.

  
“Mal...stop looking at me like that.”

  
“Sorry. I can’t believe you didn’t tell me sooner.”

  
“It was complicated enough without other opinions thrown in.”

  
She nodded in understanding.

        Throughout the job, Eames kept his head down and worked, did recon and research and kept himself as busy as possible. He never let himself have a moment and did everything he could to keep his distance from Arthur.

  
If Arthur noticed, he didn’t act on it or say anything himself.

  
It was a couple of weeks into the job and Eames had just returned to his room. He ordered dinner and as he waited for it, he took a shower and changed into his pajamas pants and nothing else. He had planned to work and then sleep - a nice pattern he had fallen into to keep his mind as far from Arthur as possible - when he heard a soft knock on the door. For a moment, he thought it was room service and sat up, swinging his legs around to put his feet on the floor and as soon as he began to rise, he stopped, realizing it was Arthur.

  
Arthur was at his door like he was a dozen times over in Prague. He stayed on the bed, waiting, wondering what Arthur wanted.

  
“Eames? It’s me...are you there?”

  
He was tempted to call back to him, to tell him he was, to open the door to him, to sweep him up in his arms and kiss his mouth and nip at his earlobe and whisper his name against his throat, but he stayed in place. He stayed silent and waited until Arthur was gone, and only then did he release the breath he was holding.

  
He wondered what he wanted and he hated himself for wondering.

 

+

  
The next day, he joined Mal and Dom in the suite for work. He showed up a little later than expected but neither Dom nor Mal said anything about his tardiness. Arthur was laying on the lounge, his sleeve rolled up to expose his pale arm as Mal sat by him. She had pulled up a coffee table and removed the vase to set the PASIV up on it and she held the cannula, ready to press the needle into Arthur’s wrist when Eames showed up. He looked at Eames for a moment and said hello as Eames nodded in return, going to the kitchen area to get some coffee.

  
When Mal put both him and Dom under, Eames came back to join her, handing her a cup as he sat on the edge of the bed as he saw them both out, Dom on a chair right by Arthur.

  
“How are things?”

  
“Smooth. We’re just do some test runs. Then Dom and I are doing some runs. Will you be ok?”

  
He sighed, looking into his cup as he asked,

  
“You didn’t say anything did you?”

  
“Eames...love, I’m insulted you would ask. I promised you I wouldn’t.”

  
“I know. I’m sorry I even said it.”

  
He stood up, leaning over to kiss her temple as she looked up at him and smiled. When he settled back down, he looked at her - her dark hair loose and over her shoulders, long black skirt with a slit to her knee and showing off her heels, a short sleeved powder blue button up that made her eyes stand out all the more.

  
“I should have married you when I had the chance.”

  
She smiled at him as she tucked her hair behind her ear.

  
“You say that every time you’re heart sick.”

  
“Because you’re the only one that has never left me.”

When Dom and Mal both went under, it was Arthur’s turn to watch the PASIV as Eames stood out in the terrace having a cigarette. He didn’t want to be alone in a room with him, though they weren’t technically alone. When he finished, he stepped back in the room, knowing there were only a few minutes left on the clock and he knew he could stall just a bit more. He closed the terrace doors behind him and returned to the kitchen area where he made himself another cup of coffee and began to pick at the croissants and muffins that had been brought up from the hotel. As he picked up a blueberry muffin, Arthur was suddenly there with him.

  
“Shouldn’t you be watching them?”

  
Arthur glanced back at Dom and Mal as he said,

  
“They’ll be all right. There’s a few minutes left on the clock. Besides I wanted to talk to you.”

  
Eames didn’t say anything, he just looked back at his muffin and began peeling off the wrapper.

  
“I went to see you last night. I wasn’t sure if you were in your room or not.”

  
“I was there.”

  
He still didn’t look up, keeping himself busy with his muffin.

  
“I thought you might have been.”

  
Eames looked up then, breaking off a piece of the pastry as he ate it and looked at Arthur. He wanted to be angry and he felt it, but he also felt more hurt than anything else. He couldn’t read Arthur’s face, what he felt or what he thought and that bothered him too.

  
“What did you want?”

  
Arthur sighed and he rested his hands on the counter of the small space between them.

  
“I wanted to explain what happened in Prague.”

  
“I know what happened in Prague.”

  
“No, you don’t understand.”

  
“I think I understand just fine, darling. You got what you needed and that was fine with me. I would be inclined to believe otherwise had you not let so many goddamn months slip from then until now for you to stand there and tell me I don’t understand.”

  
He let some of the anger and spite slip into his words and as he saw the surprised look on Arthur’s face, he looked down and broke off another piece of muffin. It was quiet for a moment and he could see Arthur’s hands recoil and clasped each other as he began to fiddle with his fingers.

  
“I had another job. It was lined up immediately afterwards which I wouldn’t have even taken had I known what happened between us. That morning...I had to leave. I missed my flight actually...ended up taking the red eye and I didn’t want to leave a note. It felt so wrong. You meant more than that. I thought I could get a hold of you during my job or right after it but...things went to hell. I had to lay low for a while. I couldn’t even have Dom or Mal help me out and even when Dom called me to find out if I could help him with a job, I couldn’t. I didn’t want as much time to pass as it did but the next thing I knew, it had been so long and I tried to call you but your number was different and I couldn’t ask Mal and I could have found out myself but then I wasn’t sure if you even wanted to hear from me so I thought when you came to help her on a job I could explain better in person but you didn’t and then more time passed...and here we are.”

  
Eames had finished through half of his muffin by the time Arthur finished and he looked up at him, seeing that face he had been so smitten with. He knew he still cared for him, despite his want to get over him but...

  
He didn’t have a chance to reply when he saw Dom stirring from his chair. Arthur left to tend to them and Eames finished his muffin.

The rest of the day was busy and Eames kept to his thoughts, to the job, to Dom and Mal when they spoke and when he was done, he waited, dawdling with Mal, having a cigarette with her before he left and when he was sure Arthur was staying behind to work with Dom, he kissed her cheek and left. He ate and numbed himself with whisky before heading to bed and going right to sleep, not wanting to stay up and have a chance to hear the door being knocked on again.

  
Eames did all he could to keep distance between them, despite the explanation he was given. He wasn’t sure if he should believe him or even buy into it...the pain he suffered before was almost too much to bear the first time around. He wasn’t sure if he was ready to go back into it head first.

  
Arthur tried, which was the thing that weakened Eames the most. He spoke to him at work, giving him research, pointing out what he thought was excellent, listening when Eames said something. When he flirted, Eames took the bait and flirted back, reminding him of when they first met and they played this game.

  
It was hard to resist...so hard because Eames was still very much in love and he didn’t want to be.

  
When the job was over, the last thing he wanted was to give Arthur a chance to corner him so he returned to his room and packed fast and as he did, he realized he was running. He was fleeing into the night because he didn’t want to face Arthur and he knew that wasn’t him. He set his things down and waited instead, promising himself that if Arthur didn’t come to him that night, he would leave and move on.

  
He didn’t have to wait long.

  
There was a soft knock on his door around midnight and Eames slowly opened it, leaning on the frame, filling it up with his size as he looked at Arthur standing there. As the door opened, Arthur looked relieved and his body seemed to relax as he saw Eames.

  
“Hey.”

  
Arthur bit his lip for a moment before answering back.

  
“Hi. Can I come in?”

  
Eames thought for a moment, hesitating, his hand still on the door handle as if he was going to shut the door again - but he nodded and stepped back, opening the door wider and letting Arthur in. When he closed the door behind him, Arthur turned to face him, small suitcase in his hand, his suit and tie still on as he waited for Eames to face him. He then took a deep breath and looked down for a moment before looking back up at him.

  
“I can’t stand the silence from you anymore. Please...tell me that you’ll at least still talk to me, even if you don’t want anything else from me.”

  
It was all Eames could take as he walked over to him, putting his arms around his slender waist, pulling him close and kissing him hard. He had missed those lips, the softness, their shape under his own, the taste of his tongue as he opened his mouth and felt Arthur responding, the warmth of him.

  
He had missed Arthur so much.

  
When they couldn’t breathe anymore, Eames moved back with a soft sigh, looking into Arthur dark mocha colored eyes, flecked with amber as he held him a little tighter.

  
“Don’t ever leave me in the dark again. If you do, you might as well forget I exist.”

  
“I should have never done it in the first place...I’m sorry. I didn’t use you...I care for you, I do.”

  
“I care for you too.”

  
It was as close as Eames had gotten to saying how he really felt.


	5. Chapter 5

He felt Arthur putting his arms around him, pulling him in closer, deepening their kiss further, making sweet little sounds that reminded Eames of Prague and instantly made him hard. Arthur felt Eames' erection right away and made it worse, pressing himself sinuously against the other man, rutting slowly against him as Eames growled softly. When Arthur moved back, he took his jacket off and brought his hands to his tie, pulling it loose as Eames began to undo the buttons of his shirt, pulling it free from his pants. Kissing, they slowly began stepping back towards Eames’ unmade bed when he suddenly stopped himself, pulling back, settling his hands on his waist as he said,

“Hold on...wait…I don’t have anything.”

“What do you mean?”

“I haven’t any slick….no condom.”

“I feel oddly relieved hearing that.”

He smiled and Eames laughed a little, sighing to himself.

“Figures I get you back and I have nothing to seal the deal.”

Arthur smiled, leaning closer to him, kissing him softly before he said,

“Well...we can always pick something up tomorrow morning and for now, we could just...talk and I can spend the night. If that’s ok with you.”

“You don’t have another job?”

“Nothing yet. And until I do...I rather make up for all that time I missed out on.”

“Yeah...ok. We can do that.”

  
+

  
They spent the rest of the night together. They had dinner and then talked - Eames hadn’t realized just how much of a relief it was to hear that his beloved, the object of his affections, felt the same way. He hadn’t realized just how much he needed to hear Arthur tell him that he didn’t use him.

“I didn’t want to leave that morning and I completely forgot to even mention the job right behind it. Honestly, I was so distracted during Prague, I had no idea how I even managed to get anything done." 

He laughed softly to himself as they sat on Eames’ bed, Eames in his pajama pants, Arthur in his own pajamas, his bags now beside Eames’. Eames laughed too, reaching across the small gap of space between them, clasping Arthur’s fingers, feeling comfortable enough to do so now.

“I thought for sure Mal knew something.”

Arthur smiled, his dimples showing up as he said,

“Me too. But she’s not one to sit back silently.”

Eames agreed.

“Anyway...I only woke up that morning because my phone’s notifications went off. I remembered that I had to catch my plane and I should have done something else...should have left a note but I really thought when I landed I could call you.”

Eames clasped his hand firmly, pulling Arthur over to him, putting his arms around him and lying back on the bed as he kissed him. He was surprised with himself to see how quickly he was ready to forgive Arthur.

“Forget it. We’re all entitled one cock up.”

Arthur smiled again, lifting himself up to look at Eames better and Eames sighed to himself, feeling his chest rise a little as he looked at how lovely Arthur was. He had wet his hair and combed it out once he changed his clothes and now it was drying out in soft chocolate colored waves. He looked so much more relaxed, so much younger than when he met Arthur all those years ago. He brought his hand to cup his cheek and pulled him down for another kiss.

They fell asleep like that, speaking softly, close to each other and sharing kisses throughout the night. In the morning, Eames woke up and felt his arms empty and he immediately sat up, worried it had all just been a dream - his years working with the PASIV and dream work finally catching up to him - when the door to the room opened and Arthur was stepping back in. He had on his winter peacoat and khakis and held a plastic bag in his hand. He looked cold as he closed the door behind him and looked up at Eames.

“Hi. I just stepped out for a moment...I left a note this time.”

Eames looked on the nightstand, seeing Arthur’s clean and tidy script on the hotel room stationary saying ‘Went to the store, I’ll be back - A’ and he sighed to himself, feeling a little foolish.

“Oh...I just woke up. I didn’t even see the note yet.”

Arthur smiled as he walked over and set the bag down on foot of the bed as he began taking off his coat and then his scarf, revealing his cashmere gray jumper with a white oxford underneath. Eames drew his knees up, wrapping his arms around his legs as he smiled at Arthur and said,

“So, what did you buy?”

“Just a few needed items.”

He pulled his jumper off as Eames smiled and just watched him undress, sitting down to remove his shoes and socks, then undo the tiny buttons on his oxford as he untucked it and revealed his bare chest underneath.

“Is it cold out?”

“Mmhmm.”

He undid his pants and left his briefs on as he grabbed the bag and pushed it closer to Eames, letting him look inside. He reached in, taking out the box of condoms and the bottle of lubricant, setting them both on the nightstand as he pushed the bag away and then laid on his side, propped up on his elbow, gesturing Arthur to join him.

Arthur crawled onto the bed, over to the empty side of the bed as Eames began to kiss him, his right hand on his back, the other on the nape of Arthur’s neck as he turned him on his back, Arthur’s hand rested on the side of Eames’ neck, his slender fingers brushing over his skin as he kissed back, his mouth opening as he slipped his tongue inside his mouth. They broke apart for air and Eames took the time to look at him, letting the hand that held his nape now roam across his chest, his stomach; Arthur smiling, his own fingers stroking over Eames’ tattoo, the tips following the black ink as Eames went back for more, devouring his lips as if he would never get enough. He tried to pull away once, then again before he finally succeeded and began to ease Arthur over to lay on his stomach. As soon as he was turned over, Arthur pulled the pillow that Eames was resting on as he tucked it under his head, sighing softly when Eames kissed his shoulder, then the space between the blades, then going further down his back, his hand smoothing over Arthur’s perfect round ass, firm and taunt from the strict workout routine Arthur put himself through.

He kissed his lower back, his eyes taking in the few little birthmarks that dotted his body - though enough to make Eames trace them from one side to another. There was a scar here and there, minor and superficial, and Eames remembered each one, kissing them before moving along. His lips were warm against Arthur’s cold skin and he felt his shiver - the goosebumps rising as Arthur made soft little noises, his back dipping then rising back up to Eames’ mouth.

Eames hooked his fingers into the waistband of his briefs and took them down, watching as Arthur raised his body up to help, his hand coming down to help push them away as Eames sat up and took them off the rest of the way, then delighted in sliding his hands back up Arthur’s firm thighs, over his ass, then held his hips for a moment before lying over him, kissing his ear, biting the lobe gently - having missed that so much as he whispered Arthur's name against his hair. Arthur turned towards him, searching for his mouth and when he found it, Eames moaned, slipping his hands under his chest to hold him closer. He thought it might have been the sound of their breathing, the rustling of the sheets or just his imagination when he heard,

“I missed you…”

Eames moved back, reaching to his pajama pants to undo them as he looked at Arthur, unsure if he had heard what he heard. Arthur looked at him again, his face flushed as Eames got off him and Arthur turned back over. He reached for his pajama pants, helping him unsnap them and opened them, helping them off as he looked at Eames’ cock almost...fondly before looking back up at him.

“I missed you.”

“Me, or my cock?”

He meant it as a joke, trying to ease the tension but Arthur sat up, kissing his chest along the way, putting his arms around him until he reached his mouth again, starved for him. When he pulled back, Eames licked at his mouth and held him by his hips, one hand moving to cup his plump cheek as Arthur looked at him, vulnerable and exposed. He was waiting for a response, to see if he had said too much and Eames kissed him again before responding.

“I missed you too...I ached for you, darling.”

Arthur smiled, his dimples appearing as relief washed over his face and he kissed Eames again, pressing himself against the broader man before he looked at him.

“Get me ready...then get inside me.”

Eames grinned.

+

  
He did as Arthur asked, slicking his fingers, then his little hole as he pushed one digit inside him, then two, the entire time, watching Arthur’s face, seeing him gasping and moaning. His eyes closed as his hands grabbed at the blankets, his chest rising and falling fast as his stomach nearly caved in when Eames crooked his fingers, pumping them in and out slowly, stretching him open, watching as his thighs shook and fought to stay open, hearing those tortured little sounds he was making, his name always heavy on his tongue.

Eames discovered then he loved the way his name sounded in Arthur’s mouth.

He could feel the tight ring of muscle quivering around his fingers and as much fun as it was to watch Arthur fall to pieces by his hand alone, he had missed being inside him. He moved his hand and grabbed the box, tearing it open and pulling out a chain of condoms, pulling one free and then using his teeth to rip open the foil. He removed it from the packaging and rolled it down the length of his erection as he quickly guided the head to Arthur’s well prepared hole. He looked at him, watching his face as he pressed in, resisting the urge to push in harder as he leaned down, kissing his open mouth, nipping at his lips as inched in a little at a time.

“I missed you...I missed you…”

Arthur moaned openly, his head thrown back as he eased his arms around Eames’ waist, his hands on his lower back as he pulled him closer.

“Harder...please...I need you...please…”

Eames felt his fingers pressing into his skin and as he started moving slowly, he didn’t waste much time building up a faster pace, drawing out long, loud moans from Arthur, his own frantic breathing and panting mingling with his sounds.

Arthur seemed desperate at times, his hands moving from Eames’ back to his face, pulling him back to kiss him. Eames always followed, moving as hard as he could and even when he thought he might hurt Arthur somehow, he always felt the younger man urging him for more, lifting his hips to him, his fingers pressing harder into his lower back.

He loved how Arthur let go when they slept together. In the beginning, when they started seeing each other, it took Eames some effort to get him to relax, to have Arthur tell him what he liked, and even as Arthur enjoyed himself, he held back, biting his lip or covering his mouth until Eames made him stop, moaned with him to show him it was all right and soon...Arthur was comfortable enough, secure enough, relaxed enough to show himself fully to Eames.

Eames could see him now, how much courage Arthur had to work up to approach him, to talk to him again...Eames never made anything easy and even as Arthur tried to apologize, Eames rebuffed him and turned away.   
Yet Arthur persisted and Eames was grateful for that.

When Arthur came, his body shook, his head falling to the side as he gasped for air, shuttering, his thighs trembling against Eames’ sides. Eames kept going, finishing up as he came with a loud groan, his arms shaking as he held himself up - even as he lowered himself to his elbows as he dropped his head to Arthur’s throat, kissing him, whispering his name against his skin as he always had. His mind was a fog of emotion and rapid thoughts and he kept panting for air so he wouldn’t say anything stupid.

He eventually gathered enough strength to pull himself up and away, getting up to take the condom off and throw it away as he cleaned up and went back to bed. Arthur was still laying there, looking lovely as the morning light poured through the open curtains and he got in beside him, bundling him against his body, pulling the sheets over them, kissing his hair which was still soft and loose of product. Arthur turned towards him, easing his arm over Eames’ side as pressed his cheek to his chest, sighing contently.

“We should stay here.”

“I have no plans on going anywhere.”

Arthur’s laugh filled his ears and he laughed too as he said,

“I mean over the holidays. Paris...you and me….”

“That sounds perfect, duck. But...I made plans to visit with Mal. It was when I was alone and heartbroken.”

“Oh...that wouldn’t be right for me to join in on. Dom didn’t invite me.”

Eames kind of hated Dom for that. They had been friends for years and he knew Arthur well enough to know he would be alone now.

“I could cancel. Tell Mal I have another job.”

Arthur moved his head back a little, reaching up to touch his hair and looking slightly disappointed. He smiled anyway.

“No, don’t do that. Mal is counting on you.”

“I want to. I want to stay with you. I can always make it up to her later.”

Arthur smiled softly, sweetly, in a way that made Eames want to do everything and anything for him.

“Only if you’re sure.”

“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.”

 

+

  
“What do you mean you won’t spend the holidays with us?!”

Eames had to pull his cell phone away from his ear. While he and Arthur had checked out of La Tremoille and gone to another hotel, they hadn’t left Paris. He knew Mal and Dom hadn’t either and it was risky for him to stay considering the nature of the relationship but at the rate he and Arthur were going, they wouldn’t be leaving their bed much.

He called Mal to tell her he wasn’t going and he did have some regret, wanting very much to see her apartment, wanting to spend time with her - knowing it was precious and valuable, but so was Arthur.

“Mal, love, I know I said I would, but I got a job offer that’s too good to pass. It’s excellent money and besides, I would just get in the way, you and Dom are still practically newlyweds.”

He could feel her pouting on the other end and he felt a sharp laceration of guilt.

“It’s just that...I feel like I never see you anymore.”

“It’s no different than any other time. Besides, you have your husband to entertain you.”

She sighed again and Eames wished he could have held her hand.

“Mal…”

“No, it’s fine. What about New Year’s?”

“I can do New Year’s.”

“Would you hate me if I invited Arthur? He’s Dom’s friend after all…”

“It’s fine, duck. Invite him.”

After some small talk, Eames hung up and turned towards where Arthur was standing. Their change of hotel, the Four Seasons, boasted a wonderful view of the Champs-Elysees and Arthur was currently standing in front of the window admiring it. He wore one of the bathrobes, fresh from the shower and said he was going to call room service while Eames called Mal. Eames himself was still wearing a towel around his waist and once he hung up and set his phone aside, he looked at Arthur.

“Mal will call you soon.”

Arthur looked at him and then walked away from the window, joining him on the bed as he asked,

“For New Year’s right?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s fine. It’s still lots of time for just us.”

Eames smiled at the phrase, ‘us’.

“What will you tell her when she calls?”

“Well, I’ll go for New Year’s. But right now, I’ll tell her I’m somewhere else...unless…”

“Unless?”

“I don’t want you to think I’m ashamed of you. But things get complicated when everyone knows...if something were to happen…”

“I understand. I feel the same way. I rather keep it between us.”

Arthur nodded, looking relieved as he rested his head on Eames’ shoulder.

+

  
The holidays were probably some of the best Eames had ever spent since he was a child. He wasn’t working, he wasn’t lying low, he wasn’t on the run and best of all, he wasn’t alone. On Christmas Eve, he and Arthur had dinner in the restaurant of their hotel wearing their best suits. Then they returned to their room and ordered the finest champagne while they had sex all night, resting in between sips of champagne.

On Christmas, it was snowing, the city quiet but not silent, so they went out, buying hot cocoa as they walked through the charming markets, mini villages that poped up during that time of year around the city’s squares and streets. They tasted food from every region of France - sticky buns, cheeses, chocolates, wine and listening to the live that music that seemed to come from every corner. It was cold from the snow but tolerable and Eames loved how Arthur’s cheeks turned pink, the tips of his ears and nose matching. He commented on it and Arthur seem to turn even pinker, his bare hand coming up to his face, fingers covering his cheek as he looked down and smiled nervously. Eames was just further endeared by him.  
As they bought mulled wine and walked side by side near the Eiffel Tower, Eames looked at him again and then down at his hand, wondering how terribly cliche and wrong it would be to take it and walk with him like that. Feeling brave and enchanted by the wonderful turn of events, he risked it, switching the cup of wine from hand to the other and then clasped Arthur’s as they walked.

Arthur looked down, feeling Eames’ warmer, larger hand take his, not lacing their fingers but grasping them - firmly so he made his intention clear, but loose enough so he could pull away if he wanted. Arthur smiled as he held his hand back in response and they continued to walk around.

That night they pulled the curtains open so the night would flood the room and after they ate, Eames got to watch as Arthur sat on top of him and rode him. He held his slim hips as Arthur moved in smooth, fluid waves - gasping as he was able to take him in as far as he wanted, as fast as he wanted, his thighs trembling as his hands rested on Eames’ chest, his back curving as he rolled his hips, his face flushed like it was when they walked outside earlier.

Eames had been pleasantly surprised by the position, having started off with Arthur under him but suddenly Arthur had pushed him back and softly said for Eames to lay on his back. He did, carefully lying back, bringing his hand to Arthur's hair, messy and usually looking as if he just got out of bed. He watched as Arthur sat up and straddled his lap, leaning down and kissing him as he reached behind him, taking hold of Eames’ cock and guiding him back inside. When he moaned loudly, Arthur sucked on his bottom lip and began to move. He took Eames’ wrists and guided them to his hips where they remained as he sat up and Eames got to watch him.

He glowed, his skin glistening and slick from sweat, and he could see the color that had pooled in Arthur's cheeks. His hair had fallen around his face, wet and in gentle waves, his eyes sometimes closed but when they opened, they always met Eames’.   
They exchanged gasps and moans, sighs and curses as Arthur moved faster, then slowed down, alternated from short, fast bounces to slow and long rolls of his waist and Eames could hardly stand it for much longer. His fingers pressed into Arthur’s skin, feeling as if he would bruise him and he tried to warn him.

“Arthur...God...close…”

He felt him lean down and lick at his mouth, a smile playing on his lips as he moaned,

“Good…”

Eames looked at him, dimples appearing at the sides of Arthur’s mouth as he moved faster and faster, bringing Eames to his orgasm.

He saw stars, his breath freezing in his chest as he tensed - his hands held on firmly to Arthur’s hips, holding him down and in place as he came. As he came back down, his eyes focusing on Arthur, he relaxed his grip and let the other man go, rolling his hips again, urging every drop from him until he was done. Arthur finished himself off before falling on top of Eames, both of them gasping for air.

Eames moved his hands from his hips and put them around Arthur and held him, turning his head towards his neck, feeling his hair brushing over his face as his lips found his sweat covered skin. He kissed his skin, his eyes heavy as he closed them and just held Arthur for as long as he possibly could.

 

+

It was far too quick before New Year’s approached. Eames showered and dressed first, giving Arthur time to seem as if he just landed from somewhere to meet up with them.

He kept his look casual - gray pants, a dark purple button down, the sleeves rolled up, and his black peacoat. He didn’t bother with his hair and he had grown back his scruff; he would have shaved it off if Arthur hadn’t pressed his cheek against his and told him to leave it. They had plans to meet up back at their room later and Eames sighed, not at all wanting to leave their little haven. But he kissed Arthur, looking at his soft, impossibly young face, his hair still loose and wavy as he wore his bathrobe and smiled at him.

Eames took a cab to Mal’s old apartment. When it was just her and him they would meet up there and have cigarettes, tea and tea sandwiches. When he arrived, he hesitated going in, not wanting to see Dom there - in a space that was just for him and Mal. It felt spoiled somehow but he sucked it up and went inside anyway. When Mal answered the door, she shouted happily, throwing her arms around his neck and hugging him, burying her face against his throat.

“God, Eames I missed you!”

He held her in return and as he smelled her hair, honey and lavender blossoms - he realized he missed her too.  
She led him in and he took off his coat and hanging it over his arm as he saw Dom sitting at their once private table - he had to squash the urge to feel violently angry. He smiled and said hi to him as he sat down. Mal dragged another chair over and said she would bring out some wine.

It was a few hours before Arthur arrived and when he did, he wore his suit of armor - black and a crisp dark gray button down with a black tie. His hair was slicked back and he wore his wool trench coat, carrying a bottle of champagne with a bow. When Mal answered, she hugged him just as warmly, saying how much she had missed Arthur too and thanked him for the champagne. Dom stood almost as immediately as Arthur came in and Eames watched as Arthur was adored and welcomed so warmly into a space he felt less and less was just his and Mal’s. When Arthur’s coat was taken and Mal put the champagne on ice, Eames stood and looked at him.

“Hello, Arthur.”

“Hello, Eames.”

They shook hands like strangers but now, Eames could smile warmly at him knowing he would see the Arthur that was slowly becoming his, later that night.

  
+

  
They drank and they talked and celebrated a good time. They spoke of upcoming jobs and past jobs and how things were going rather well in their line of business and Dom offered Arthur another job after the holidays.

“It would be quick and painless. It would be about two weeks.”

Arthur nodded, his suit jacket now on the back of his chair, a waistcoat revealed underneath, sleeves rolled up to his elbow as he said,

“Sure. Let me get back to you on the details.”

Dom nodded.

When Eames got up to get the champagne from the refridgerator before the clock struck midnight, Dom offered to help since Mal was in the middle of a story with Arthur. Eames stood in the kitchen, fishing around one of the drawers for a corkscrew, knowing Mal had one somewhere as Dom joined him. He opened the cupboards and took out some wine glasses, moving just as fluidly as Eames had, familiar with Mal’s kitchen. He could look over the small window opening that led out into the living room and he could see Mal chatting warmly with Arthur. She wore fitted black jeans and a white blouse and a cardigan, her hair loose and falling over her shoulder as she touched Arthur’s wrist, looking at him as lovingly as she looked at Dom, at Eames. But it didn’t bother him anymore because as they talked, Arthur laughing, the sound making Eames smile, it dawned on him why he was so in love with him.

Arthur and Mal were one in the same.

Both smart, fearless, all consuming when it came to the people around them. Impossible to capture and hold but they left deep, heavy marks on the people they touched. But while Mal made everyone feel special, Arthur was more reserved about it but the feeling was almost the same Mal made him feel.

His thoughts were interrupted when Dom set the wine glasses down by him and said,

“Find the corkscrew?”

Eames looked down at his hand that had stopped searching as his fingers bumped into it. He grabbed it and held it up.

“Got it.”

Dom nodded as he looked at Arthur and Mal and he smiled too.

“Thanks for coming. Mal was really sad when you cancelled for Christmas.”

“I had to come now. I felt guilty about cancelling. Why didn’t you tell Arthur to come?”

“Because a few weeks ago, when Mal was planning all this, she mentioned you coming and Arthur said it was a shame he couldn’t go because he was busy. So I wasn’t going to ask him if I knew the answer.”

“Ah.”

Dom nodded a bit as Eames resumed uncorking the bottle.


	6. Chapter 6

When the celebrations were over and the sun nearly coming up, Arthur left first and Eames had another cigarette with Mal.   
Dom fell asleep on the chaise as they smoked on her terrace. Mal looked at him through the terrace doors, her coat on as she shivered a little, Eames tucking his hand in his pocket as he exhaled. The sky was already fading from black to softer reds and yellows, the stars still hanging higher above. The cathedral was now clearer in the distance, pigeons flying across the sky heading towards it.

“So, how have you been?”

Mal’s voice was sleepy and she yawned after she exhaled the cloud of smoke from her mouth. Eames turned to look at her as he smiled.

“The best I’ve been in years.”

“Oh?”

It bubbled in his chest to tell her, to tell her everything. How in love he was, how it was with Arthur, how the past few days had been the best he had ever known and he was hopeful, oh-so hopeful for the future. But all at once, he didn’t want to breathe a word of it either.

Mal had expanded their once private world and Arthur had given him a new sanctuary. He loved that it was just Arthur and him, their secret - theirs and only theirs.

“It’s been a good year is all. I’ve made good money, done good travel, made wonderful connections.”

“And Arthur?”

“We’ve settled that. No sense in having awkwardness among us since we work together.”

Mal looked a little disappointed as she quirked her mouth and looked away over the railing of the terrace, sighing.

“A shame. You two look so wonderful together.”

Eames just shrugged.

 

+

He eventually caught up with Arthur in their hotel room. Arthur had waited up for him and Eames was happy to see him awake when he arrived. They went to bed and slept through the morning and most of the afternoon. When they woke up, they talked a bit.

Eames knew they couldn’t be on a hiatus for very long - especially Arthur - but all the same, Eames was a little upset when Arthur told him about the job with Dom.

“I’ll be taking the job...I need to get back to work and so should you.”

“I know. I also knew this couldn’t last forever. But it was nice.”

“It was.”

Arthur sighed, laying down beside Eames since they had talked on the bed. He curled up beside him, tucking his head under Eames’ chin as he pressed his hand on his chest, fingers scratching at him softly through his chest hair. He then moved back suddenly and looked at Eames and said,

“I don’t want to end this.”

“I had no plans on letting you go so easily, love.”

Arthur smiled, sliding his knee between Eames’.

“We can work out an arrangement. When I’m done with a job, you can meet me and visa versa, depending on who’s closer or who’s done first.”

“Unless we’re with Dom and Mal. Then we’re already together.”

Arthur nodded as he reached up to his hair, tucking back a strand.

“I think it’ll work out.”

“So do I.”

 

     On the first job out, Eames took Arthur to the airport and watched him go on past security before leaving for his own flight. He didn’t count on how much he would miss him - neither did Arthur apparently, because Eames got his first of many text messages that night that said ‘I miss you.’

It was such a simple text, three words, but Eames smiled foolishly at his phone as he sat in his London flat many hours later. When Arthur had free time and was by himself, he called Eames and they talked throughout the night, until one of them fell asleep, their phone batteries eventually dying.

When Arthur finished, he took the red eye to London and Eames picked him up. It had been a long two weeks and Eames wondered how he did this before with longer stretches of time in between.

It became their established arrangement, whenever they had separate jobs they met up afterwards in the closest city, depending on who finished first. In between, they texted and called to ease the gap of time. And whenever they reunited, it was followed by long days of mind blowing sex and then conversation to catch each other up.

Whenever they worked with Dom and Mal, they kept their distance and remained professional - keeping separate rooms though they usually ended up sharing one.

It was easier than they had assumed to keep their secret.

 

+

  
Off jobs, whatever city they happened to be in, became their haven.

In New York, they dined and took in operas and ballets.

In Vegas they drank and gambled.

In Rome, they took in sights and gorged on food and wine.

But islands, no matter the island, were always the best. They spent long days lounging on white sand beaches, lying in hammocks, sleeping days away - always with each other. They had the luxury of the cold air conditioning in their rented room or condo and then the outside breeze and shade right out their door.

During one of their days in Sardinia in the Hotel Romazzino, lounging on their bed while the balcony doors were open to allow the breeze in, Eames watched as the picturesque, perfect blue sky seemed to go on forever. It had been the second or third day after their arrival to the hotel - bright white cube looking buildings stacked on each other with brown thatched looking roofs sprouting up from the rugged hills, crowned with wildflowers and overlooking the white beaches below. Their room was white, off set with pale yellow curtains, pillows and other smaller accents. The wide double doors lead out to a balcony that overlooked the clear blue ocean, a table and chair set and a jacuzzi. It was quiet with the exception of the ocean and Eames dreaded the end of this break. He yawned as he felt Arthur dozing beside him, curled up against him, his arm thrown over his chest as the messy sheets were pulled over the both of them. Somehow, they had ended up at the foot of the bed, the pillows knocked over, the blankets shoved aside.

He let his fingers run up and down Arthur’s bare back, turning towards his hair, kissing his head, smelling that delicious scent that was only Arthur.

“Arthur?”

He got no response, his steady, even breathing continuing.

“I love you.”

It felt good to say, even if there was no response, even if Arthur didn’t know because he was asleep. The words were whispered into his dark wavy hair, lost in waves crashing on the shore below them.

 

+

  
It was a matter of time before Mal called Eames and Dom called Arthur. Eames took his call in the sitting area while Arthur spoke in the bedroom.

“Hi Mal, how have you been?”

“Wonderful. And you?”

“The same.”

“Listen, I need you on a job and it’s kind of important and urgent.”

“How important and urgent?”

He was still feeling lazy and content with being in Sardinia with Arthur.

“Very. I would need you in the next two days.”

He sighed softly so Mal wouldn’t hear him and he leaned back on the couch to look into the bedroom in the distance, to see Arthur sitting on the bed, talking calmly with Dom on his phone. Arthur looked over at him just then and he nodded so Eames nodded back and replied to Mal.

“All right, darling. I’ll be there in the next two days. Where should we meet?”

“California.”

Eames agreed and hung up and waited before getting off the bed until Arthur finished his conversation with Dom. When he heard Arthur moving about he got up and went to the bedroom, only to see him charging his phone, looking upset.

“What’s wrong, darling?”

“I just...I didn’t really want to leave yet.”

He was wearing briefs with one of Eames’ shirts, something that Eames had grown quite fond of. Eames sat on the bed and turned towards him as he took his wrist, rubbing his thumb along side the rounded bone as he murmured,

“I never really want to leave.”

Arthur sighed heavily as he brought his free hand up to his loose hair, running his fingers through it. Eames had hardly worn clothes after they checked in, choosing to lounge in his underwear and now was no exception. He pulled Arthur down to sit on his lap as he put his arms around his waist.

“You should head out first. I’m usually late to these things anyway.”

Arthur nodded resting his head on Eames’ shoulder.

“Ok. Don’t lag too far behind.”

“I won’t.”

       It was raining when Eames landed. He waited a day to catch up to Arthur in California; it hadn’t been easy to spend the night alone in their Sardinia hotel when the sheets and pillows still smelled like him.

He was tired and jet lagged and in no mood for whatever job Mal had roped him into. As he picked up his luggage, he wondered for the millionth time why he had agreed. It was hot and rainy, two terrible things when combined and only served to further dampen his mood. Once ready, he stood outside LAX and looked around for a moment. Only seeing a constant line of cabs, he decided to text Arthur.

_‘I landed. Where are we staying?’_

That one question lightened his mood a bit and he smiled as he realized he would stay in the same room with him again. He yawned as he waited for a reply and when he got it, he smiled.

_‘Glad you got here safe. Omni Hotel._ ’

He quickly hailed a cab and gave the hotel he was staying at and then waited, toying with his phone for a bit, impatient, wondering if he would at least have a little time with Arthur before being pulled into work.

After checking in and getting to their room, he was relieved to see Arthur there. He was dressed and ready to leave but he smiled and put his arms around Eames as soon as the door was closed behind him. They kissed hello, Eames smiling the whole time as he held him in return. When they pulled apart, Arthur sighed and looked at him.

“I wish we could stay. But Mal wants us at her place. Well...I have to be there anyway. You can relax, shower, get some sleep and meet us at their house afterwards.”

Eames nodded. He felt as if he stank of airplane still - he had day old scruff and he was in the same wrinkled clothes that he had on from Sardinia. But still, Arthur held onto him, kissing him softly, unwilling to leave. It’s only when Arthur’s cell phone rang that he moved back and retrieved it from his suit pocket.

“Yes? Ok, thank you.”

He hung up and looked at Eames again.

“My cab is here. I’ll see you soon.”

Eames nodded and let him go and Arthur quickly left.

 

+

  
He showered and took a nap, and when he woke up he felt a little better. He dressed and then went to Mal and Dom’s house.  
Dom had at least provided a beautiful home for his Mal, modern and pleasing to the eye. He still very much disliked their house, hated how there were no hints of Mal, nothing that reminded him of his life long friend.

Mal welcomed him inside, taking him by the hand as she said,

“Your timing is perfect, Arthur got here a few hours ago and now we can finally go over the finer details.”

Eames nodded, looking around, seeing the sharp modern lines of the furniture, the space of the halls decorated with photos of her and Dom.

He felt more away from her than he ever had.

When they met with Dom and Arthur, the both of them were sitting at the dining room table having coffee. They stood and welcomed him as Eames greeted them both, keeping the smile off his face when he saw Arthur again.

They sat down and spoke of the on coming job, a simple company break up that Eames half listened to until Dom said,

“So, I’ll do the extraction and we’ll need to bring in a chemist to -”

“Wait, why are you extracting? That’s Mal’s job,” Eames asked.

Mal and Dom looked at each other and then Mal brought her hand to her mouth as she said,

“Because...we don’t know how I’ll react to the sominac.”

It took Eames a moment to put two and two together but when it finally clicked, he leaned back on the chair he was on as he sighed and Mal finally said it.

“I’m pregnant.”


	7. Chapter 7

+

It was strange how, even having Arthur with him _and_ knowing this was an inevitability after he gave his consent for Mal to marry Dom, Eames felt sick to his stomach. He felt sucker punched, ambushed, and it took him a minute to find the proper words that should have left his mouth seconds ago.

He was fortunate that Arthur was faster on the uptake as he congratulated them.

Dom missed it all, oblivious to the turmoil that passed over Eames - but Mal saw it.

She wouldn't get a chance to call him on it however, not until a few days deep into the job. Dom was getting accustomed to extracting and taking lead in the job, doing tests with Arthur when Mal finally cornered Eames, sitting at a table working on some designs.

"I saw your face. Dom didn't but I did. Are you terribly unhappy with me? "

"Shocked more like it. You two have hardly been married."

"Eames…"

Eames shook his head, feeling the betrayal churning in his chest as he looked at Mal.

"I wanted you to stay mine."

Mal smiled sadly as she sat in his lap. They never had anything even remotely sexual between them, not even a kiss, but Eames felt so possessive of her nonetheless. He knew the luxury of calling Mal his was over when she picked Dom but now every facet of hers was gone to him. It hurt him far more than he ever imagined. Mal put her arms around him, leaning her cheek against Eames’ as she said,

“Oh love, I will always stay yours.”

“No, you’ve married someone else and now you're carrying his child.”

He slid his hand over her still flat stomach and Mal looked down, her own hand covering his.

“Say the word then, Eames. Tell me. Tell me you want me to leave him, to get rid of his child and take me away from this.”

She tossed her hair over her shoulder and looked deeply into Eames’ eyes. She meant it, he knew she did and as much as it lingered on the tip of his tongue to actually say it, he couldn’t.

“Mal. You love him.”

“I love you more.”

Eames smiled as he kissed her cheek.

“I love you, too.”

She smiled and stayed where she was, her arms around him as she held on, giving him just a few more minutes.

 

+

He sought comfort in Arthur that night. After work and returning to the hotel they were staying at, Arthur came to his room. As Arthur undressed, Eames seemed to lose himself in the very act. Arthur stayed silent, letting Eames go slow, undoing each button with care, glancing up at Arthur’s face now and then.

He untucked the crisp soft blue oxford from Arthur’s pants and finished undoing the buttons. Arthur had undone his tie and left it hanging around his neck - all of which was pushed off when Eames eased the shirt off his shoulders. The oxford hung onto Arthur’s elbows as Eames stopped and looked at his body. Sighing, he leaned forward and left soft kisses above his belly button, letting his scruff rasp against Arthur's smooth skin. He took Arthur’s hand when he was done and undid the cufflink on his right wrist, leaving it on the nightstand before bringing it up to his mouth, kissing the rounded bone he had once spent hours sketching in his notes. He repeated the act on the left wrist and then took the shirt off him before reaching to his pants. As he pushed the button through the hole and drew down the fly, he felt Arthur’s hands running through his hair, his fingers soft, manicured nails scratching gently on his scalp.

“Are you all right? You seem distracted.”

“You’re distracting, darling.”

He didn’t stop undressing him and Arthur didn’t make him but he laughed nonetheless as Eames drew his pants down - his hands cupping his ass over his underwear as he stepped out of one pant leg, then the other. He held his hips and pulled him forward, lying back on the bed, bringing Arthur with him as he kissed him again and again. Arthur moved back, sitting up as he began to undress Eames now, going just as slow, his eyes flickering up from the task to Eames’ face. Eames sighed deeply, his chest rising and falling slowly, and he settled his hands on Arthur’s thighs. He let his fingers walk up and down his skin, skating over the softness, still amazed he was allowed to do this and when he looked at Arthur’s face when his shirt was open, his mocha colored eyes met his own. He felt his slender fingers smooth over his chest, stopping right at over his tattoo, the tips tracing the outline as he said,

“Eames…”

“Yes, love?”

“I was upset too.”

Eames looked at him, remembering that Mal was just as important to Arthur as she was to him. He would feel something and he wondered if Mal had soothed him when they were working too.  
“Did she say anything to you?”

Arthur nodded, his hands still moving as he sighed now.

“I didn’t think...I thought we would have more time before she had a child.”

“I did too.”

“I almost feel terrible saying it.”

“I don’t.”

Arthur laid back down on top of him, making skin to skin contact, hovering over Eames’ face as he said,

“She’s all Dom’s now…”

“Yeah.”

“Where does that leave us?”

“With each other, darling.”

They kissed again as Eames brought his arms around him, holding onto him tightly.

 

+

 

The job was soon over and once it was, Eames was ready to leave. Mal didn’t let him go so easily and she asked him to stop by the house before he took off. Eames agreed.

As he and Arthur went back to their hotel room, he told Arthur of Mal’s request.

“Should we meet up somewhere?”

“London. Meet me in my flat. You don’t have a job to go do you?”

Arthur shook his head as Eames reached into his pockets and dug out a set of keys. It was only two keys on a single ring and he handed them to Arthur without much thought. Arthur took them and closed his hand firmly around them.

“All right then. Meet me there. I’ll be a few hours behind.”

They kissed good-bye and Arthur finished packing as Eames left to take a cab to Mal and Dom’s house.

He was not looking forward to going back to their home, to having a talk with Mal. But he went nonetheless. Once he arrived at their front door, he hesitated in knocking. When he did, Mal showed up and she smiled, wearing jeans and a loose black blouse, her hair tied back in a simple ponytail.

“Eames, I’m glad you came.”

She hugged him, putting her arms around him, kissing his cheek as she pulled him inside. Eames had already been there and they were just a few hours shy of a recent job but all the same, it felt like a different world. There was a large cardboard box in the living room and when he walked by it, he looked down to read the large black box lettering, catching the word ‘crib’ before anything else.

“Already preparing for the sprog huh?”

Mal stopped and turned around to look at it as she nodded.

“Dom’s going to build it later tonight.”

“Where is Mr. Cobb?”

“Tying up loose ends. It’s why I asked you to come before you left tonight.”

Eames nodded as they made their way to the kitchen. He took a seat at the island as Mal put the kettle on and took out her tea set, smiling as she showed the pot off to Eames, making him laugh. She got to work as she always did when Eames came over - it wasn’t Paris but it made him happy nonetheless.

Mal began work on the sandwiches, cutting the crust off and then making tiny little triangles as Eames watched her.

“So what are we talking about, Mal?”

Mal stopped and looked at him as she said,

“I’m scared. When I found out I was pregnant and I told Dom, I was happy and excited but when I saw your face...I got scared.”

“Why should my expression change the way you feel about it?”

“Because. My confidence is shaken. You made me think I shouldn’t have this baby.”

Eames watched as she went back to work, waiting for his response. It took him a moment, searching for the right words.

“Mal, I’ve made my peace with all of this when you started dating Dom. You married him, you’re having his child. My opinion shouldn’t matter.”

Mal looked back at him as she set the knife she was using down flat.

“But it does.”

“What about Arthur’s?”

“His matters too.”

“And what does he have to say about this?”

“He says his opinion shouldn’t matter either. But that’s not what I want to hear.”

“What do you want to hear?”

She sighed and went back to working on the sandwiches. Eames got up and reached across the counter, grasping her wrist and making her stop as she looked up at him.

“Mal.”

“Tell me this is fine with you. But mean it. Tell me you’re alright with having me Dom’s child and that you still love me.”

Eames smiled and took her hand, bringing it up to his mouth as he kissed her fingers.

“I’m fine with you having Dom’s child. And I will always love you. Always.”

Mal smiled, her bright lovely smile that Eames had always adored and there was relief on both of their parts.

 

+

 

Eames did eventually get back home to London and he was pleased to see Arthur there, having made himself at home.

They played house for about two weeks before Arthur took a job that would take him to Barcelona. Arthur sat on Eames’ bed holding a mug of tea as he scrolled through his laptop as he said,

“It’ll be for three months.”

Eames sat beside him, holding his own mug of tea. He was in his boxer briefs, Arthur in one of his old t-shirts, his hair a mess of waves. He reached over and touched Arthur’s bare thigh as he said,

“That’s a long time.”

“Yeah. Longest we’ve been apart so far.”

Arthur bit his lip and it was the first time Eames had seen him hesitate.

“I can take a job myself. I’ll meet you in Spain when I’m done.”

Arthur looked over at him immediately.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, that’s the arrangement isn’t it?”

Arthur nodded as he went back to his laptop and accepted the job.

Arthur prepared for a few days and the night before he left, he and Eames spent the night together. Eames kissed the base of his neck as he held Arthur’s hips, rolling his hips hard against him, feeling Arthur’s plump ass pressing against him each time. When he sat up, he felt the space between them was too far and he reached down to his shoulder, pulling Arthur up and against his chest. He wrapped his arms around Arthur’s lean body, grasping his wrist in one hand, the other holding him up, pinning his arm to his body and kept going, hearing Arthur gasping and moaning, his back arching ever so slightly to take Eames even deeper. When he looked over his shoulder, Eames attacked his mouth, biting his bottom lip, feeling Arthur’s lip closing over his as he made a soft little sound. Arthur’s free arm came up and around Eames’ neck, his fingers grasping at the hair at the nape of his neck as they kissed. When they moved back for air, Arthur brought his arm back down, his hand closing over Eames’ wrist, groaning as Eames’ hips snapped forward, plunging hard into him.

“Eames…”

Eames heard Arthur say his name as he buried his face against Arthur’s neck, nipping a soft mark into his collarbone as he moaned. He moved a little faster, drawing more sighs and moans from Arthur, loving how he heard him keening, meeting him for each thrust. He softly whispered his name against his throat, feeling Arthur’s grip on his wrist tighten, his heart thruming furiously against chest, his own slamming against Arthur’s back.

“Eames...Eames….”

The way Arthur moaned his name made him look up and as he kissed his mouth, he felt his tongue licking at his lips as he moaned his name again. Eames looked at him, slowing his pace, still holding him tightly and he knew it was the time to say it.

“Arthur...I love you…”

He felt the world slowing down, his own body still though he clung to Arthur tightly. For a moment worried he had said it too soon, worried that Arthur had not felt the same way and all the anxiety and fear from the very start of their relationship came back to haunt him then and there. It felt like hours before Arthur said anything back but when he did, he kissed Eames, the grip on his wrist just as tight as he squeezed around his cock, making Eames shiver slightly as he smiled slightly, his dimples appearing as he said,  
“I love you too…”

Eames felt his breath quicken as he smiled and he began to move again, kissing Arthur hard.

 

+

 

When it was over, Eames couldn’t stop kissing the back of Arthur’s neck, smoothing his hair away, hearing Arthur laughing softly as he turned towards him, putting his arms around Eames once he was lying on his back.

“I can’t believe it…”

Arthur smiled, looking up at him, smoothing Eames’ hair back from brow.

“What?”

“That you love me too.”

He heard Arthur laugh again.

“I do. I wasn’t sure when to say it…”

“Me either. But now, it’s going to make these months apart seem even longer.”

Arthur nodded, letting his hand cup his jaw as Eames leaned down to kiss him again. He slid his hands under Arthur’s shoulders, lifting him closer to him, feeling his smile under his lips and he still couldn’t believe it. It had been some time, nearly two years since Arthur left him in Prague and now they were in his flat in London, kissing after a confession of love.

He briefly thought of Mal and how her leaving his side was upsetting, but it was made easier with Arthur.


	8. Chapter 8

+

The following morning, Eames had to practically sit on his hands to not touch Arthur as he watched him after he showered and dressed. He had already packed the night before and once he was done getting dressed, he was sliding his laptop into a case and then picking up his charger, wrapping the cord around the battery before easing it into the bag. Eames sighed, eyes never leaving Arthur and his charcoal gray suit, paisley red tie on a crisp white oxford, and his polished black leather shoes. His black trench coat was lying on the bed beside Eames, his hair pulled back into its confines. He was so lovely and Eames felt absolutely smitten just watching him move around the room.

It all started to fall away however, when Arthur was ready and he picked up his coat and stood in front of Eames.

“Walk me to the door?”

“Yeah.”

He stood up and walked with Arthur from the bedroom to the door where his luggage waited along with the PASIV. Arthur stopped and turned to Eames, pulling his coat on as Eames helped him.

“Call me or text me when you land, yeah? I don’t want to worry about you for weeks. Don’t make me run to Barcelona.”

Arthur smiled, dimples dotting the sides of his face as his coat rested on his shoulders and Eames smoothed out the lapels.

“I will. How long until you leave?”

“I’ll find out today. But I’ll let you know when I know.”

Arthur nodded as he sighed and glanced out the window, seeing the graying skies and heavy clouds hanging overhead.

“My cab isn’t here yet.”

“Take an umbrella.”

Arthur nodded and then stepped closer to Eames, putting his arms around his neck as Eames slid his hands in Arthur's coat, settling on his hips, hating the jacket that hung between them as they kissed. They kissed for minutes at a time - tongues shyly touching, lips meeting again and then hardly parting - melding together perfectly in a way that Eames never noticed before. They fit, every part of them, from their mouths, to the way his hands fit perfectly over his hips, even how his cock seem to slide in and stay as if his body was made just for him.

They broke apart when they heard a car horn blaring outside and Arthur moved away and checked the window to see his cab. He sighed as he began to pick up his things, the umbrella last as he kissed Eames once more.

“I love you.”

Eames was still fresh from the thrill of hearing Arthur say it and he couldn’t help but smile.

“I love you, too.”

Arthur smiled at him, then opened the door and left.

+

  
It didn’t take long for Eames to look for a job. He couldn’t stay alone and wreck his mind thinking of Arthur, missing him every second they were apart.

He had three months to kill, so he headed to Mombasa and helped Yusuf with some of his under-the-table deals before he found something else in his field. It was through Yusuf’s contacts but it took him to Monaco and he needed the distraction.  
After getting his things in order he headed off to Monaco, using an assumed identity since he still had some trouble from the last time he was in Monte Carlo.

He gambled, took in some races and did the job he had come for. But the any time he had a moment alone, he thought of Arthur. He turned down several advances - beautiful women in Mal’s league that approached him, offering him wild nights - but he would buy them one drink and send them on their way, politely turning them down.

He sent Mal texts, checking in on her, on her condition. He waited for Arthur’s texts, telling him he missed him and when they were alone, they used Skype to get through the time.

“I don’t like you doing jobs in Monte Carlo. Didn’t you have a run in there?”

Eames laughed as he saw Arthur’s face on his screen, his coat and tie off, but his button down still on, the collar opened and the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Eames himself was still wearing his expensive suit though he was in the process of changing when Arthur called.

“I did. But I’m under a different name, it’s fine. Besides, it’s just a quick favor for Yusuf. I should be out of here in a few days.”

“You’ve been there a week.”

“I know. But I’ll be gone soon and I’m going to head to Barcelona to wait for you.”

He laid on his side, propping his head up on his hand to look at the screen as Arthur sighed. It had only been one month, and only two weeks into the second. There was still another month and a half to go - assuming nothing would go wrong on Arthur’s job.

“I miss you.”

There was a softer tone in Arthur’s voice when he said it and Eames couldn’t help but feel affected by it.

“I miss you too. I don’t know how I ever did this before.”

“Me either.”

“Are you sleeping well, love? You seem a bit tired.”

“I am. But it’s harder some nights. I work a lot.”

“Yeah, I know the feeling.”

They talked well into the night, and finally went to bed.

Eames called Mal a few days later.

“Hello, love. How is Monte Carlo?”

Eames smiled as he leaned back on the love seat in his hotel room. He had just gotten back from roulette and was feeling great, some whisky floating through his system.

“It’s wonderful, darling. How’s the sprog?”

“Getting bigger every day. We found out what it’s going to be. Do you want to know?”

“Yes.”

“A girl.”

Eames smiled and tried to picture Mal in her modern California home, large with child.

“Any name ideas?”

“Nothing solid yet. I’m thinking Edith...or Olivia. Maybe Phillipa. Dom is thinking plainer names like Rose or Miranda.”

“I like Phillipa. Pippa is a good name.”

Mal laughed softly as she said,

“I’ll consider it more. When will you be coming by again, dearest? I miss you.”

“I miss you too. After I’m done here, I’ll be stopping home for a bit then I’ll see if I can pop round for a visit.”

“I look forward to it. So, did you win big?”

“How did you know I gambled?”

“I know your tricks, Eames. Besides you wouldn’t be so calm if you didn’t drink and win. So was it big?”

“I got a few thousand.”

“Spend it wisely. Don’t give it all back now.”

“I won’t. I have an idea of what I want to spend it on.”

+

  
Eames soon pocketed his winnings and packed his bags as he headed to Barcelona. It was late June, hot, and a perfect time to visit. Arthur would be done soon, and then Eames would have him all to himself. They would have beaches, excellent food and long warm nights making love in air conditioned rooms.

When he arrived it was hot, though covered in overcasted skies. He took a cab to the ABaC Barcelona hotel and immediately rented the penthouse, knowing the hotel was perfect and Arthur would love it. Once he was brought up to his room, he settled down and texted Arthur.

_‘Darling, I’m at the ABaC Barcelona. Meet me when you can. Miss you x’_

As he set his phone down and set his luggage aside, he went to shower and by the time he came back, he saw he had a response.

_‘I can’t wait to see you. I’ll be there soon.’_

He wasn’t sure when soon was so he settled in for the night, counting down the hours before Arthur joined him.

He slept off his jet lag, had a bite to eat and took in the view from the garden. The walls of the penthouse bedroom were glass that overlooked the garden and had heavy cream colored curtains to hide the view at night. There was a jacuzzi in the corner - he was sure that would come in handy later - a space to sit like a living room, and a dining area. The inside of the penthouse was just as comfortable and beautiful, and he was sure Arthur would approve. He took a seat on the couch and smoked a cigarette, and when he got a text from Arthur to let him know he was on his way, Eames called room service and had champagne brought up. He fidgeted, glad the room was clean and that he had not made a mess of it - though he smoothed out the bed where he had slept and fluffed the pillows again.

Room service showed up and he took the silver champagne pail with the flutes rather than letting the bellhop in and he paced, wondering where to place it and decided that outside - where the dining area looked over the lit up city with some soft rounded lamps - was perfect.

He paced again and again and not soon enough, Arthur let him know he was there.

It was only a matter of moments before there was a knock at the door and Eames all but ran towards it to answer. He took a deep breath, unprepared for the overwhelming feeling of seeing Arthur again after three months.

Apparently, Arthur felt the same way as he threw his free arm around him and kissed him, throwing aside his luggage as Eames closed the door behind him. He realized he didn’t so much as miss him as he had ached for him. His senses went into overdrive, taking in the very taste of him, his scent, how he looked, how he felt in his arms again and yes...he had ached for him.

He moaned softly against his lips and Arthur moved back slightly, wanting to look at him, wanting to breathe again but also wanting to be consumed by him again.

They didn’t say anything for a moment, just looked at each other, holding onto one and other and kissing again. Finally, Arthur sighed weakly and said,

“I missed that.”

Eames smiled, holding him tightly, kissing him again.

“Me too. Are you hungry? Tired?”

Arthur shook his head as he kissed Eames again, pulling himself close to him as he said,

“I just want to get out of these clothes and get into bed.”

Eames grinned now, very much loving the idea but he remembered the champagne.

“Look at the penthouse first, love. It needs your approval.”

Arthur laughed a little and agreed, taking his hand as they took a quick tour, approving along the way. The last stop was the garden right outside the bedroom and he saw the champagne waiting for them.

“Oh. Eames, you do surprise me.”

“I try.”

Arthur smiled and walked over to the table where they sat down and had a glass, giving Arthur a chance to unwind.   
He talked about the job he had been on, the tediousness of it, the length, the planning and overplanning and then the waste of time of having to do things over. He sighed as he emptied his flute and then set it down, sliding it over towards Eames to refill.

“I’m just glad it’s over.”

Eames refilled his glass, then his own as he eased it back over to Arthur.

“So am I. You seemed tired when you working.”

“I was. But now I have a chance to rest.”

Eames clinked his glass against Arthur’s with a knowing smile.

+

  
Unlike in Paris when he was ill prepared in having Arthur return to his life, this time Eames had everything ready - though he wasn’t ready to end up on one of the lounges near the foot of the bed. They undressed and Arthur pushed Eames back on the lounge as he got on top of him, wanting to look at him and to be in charge at the same time.

Eames had no problem with that, rather liking that position as he took hold of Arthur’s lean hips and watched him.

He loved to watch him, to see the concentration on his face, to see how he would gasp and moan, sometimes in a wave - gradually starting softly, almost a whisper with space between oh’s, then as he sped up it came in litany, his back arching, his head falling back as his thighs trembled at Eames’ sides.

“Oh….oh, oh, oh, oh….”

Eames would smile in between his own moans and lift his own hips, supported by the cushions and pillows behind him as he slid his hands up his sides to give Arthur better control of his body, letting him bounce harder and deeper and as he did, Eames realized that he wanted this.

Not just Arthur, not just the sex, but all of this, this life with Arthur; he groaned as he sat up, sliding his arms around Arthur, slowing him down, feeling him shivering in his arms. Arthur made a weak little sound, wanting to keep going at his pace but Eames took his mouth instead, kissing him hard and stealing his breath before Arthur pulled back, sliding his hands up to his chest, pushing Eames back down as he said,

“I’m close...don’t make me stop…”

“Sorry…”

“S’okay….”

He resumed his pace and this time, Eames didn’t stop him.

They spent the first few days in the hotel room hardly leaving the bed and sleeping in. Arthur was catching up on the sleep he had missed out in the past three months but each time he woke up, it was a toss up to see if he was hungry or horny.   
Eames didn’t mind either option.

Sometimes, when he woke up before Arthur, he would smooth his hand down his hair, his neck and back and kiss his skin. He stared at him openly, lovingly, still caught off guard that Arthur loved him as much as he loved Arthur.

He wasn’t sure he could have dealt with Mal’s situation without him...he was certain that he would cancelled their wedding just to have Mal to himself - so he wouldn’t be alone.

After the honeymoon phase, they ventured out into the city, taking in museums, fine dining, great wine and of course spending long hours on the beach. Though they couldn’t be as affectionate on the beach since it wasn’t private, it was still relaxing and calming.

Other nights they had dinner in their penthouse terrace, overlooking the city and enjoying each other’s company. Arthur smiled more once he was off the job. He joked and he drank and he was far more calm, and Eames loved that he got to witness it and more importantly, that it was just for him.

They spent a month in Barcelona. A solid, glorious month before Eames was called for a job. He really didn’t want to take it, but the pay-off was tempting and under the table since it was through one of his underground connections. He told Arthur and he advised Eames to take it.

“It’s Amsterdamn. It’s just a few weeks. And anyway, Dom just texted me...asked if I wanted to take a job myself.”

“Perfect timing then.”

Arthur nodded.

“My job is only a month. I could probably end it earlier though. Dom is just a mess without Mal.”

Eames agreed.

“I could cut out in a month. We could meet back in my flat. Still have my keys?”

Arthur nodded with a smile.

“Good. Then it’s settled.”

After organizing themselves and packing, they spent one more hour kissing good bye. Eames held Arthur, hating having to leave him and just wishing for one more day. Soon enough, they checked out and waited for a cab. Eames got the first one and gave Arthur one more look, touching his chin, letting his thumb brush over his bottom lip.

“Love you.”

Arthur smiled, then puckered his lips, kissing his thumb as he said,

“Love you too. Contact me when you can.”

Eames nodded and left.

The flight to Amsterdam was short and he met up with his contacts, Marcel and Tommy. They were friends from a hey day when Eames was still pulling cons on tourists in Picadilly Square as a teenager and selling stolen goods that “fell” off trucks. He trusted them enough - enough so when they called for this job, he had no problem going.

Though he regretted it when he arrived.

He felt something was off about Marcel when he met him at the bar.

He felt something off about the job that Tommy was telling him.

He regretted not pulling out when he got there.

And though the job went well enough, as he collected his money, he knew he should have just left instead.

He felt the hair on the back of his neck rising as Marcel gave him his cut, looking worried after they just ripped off a Russian seller of somninac. The supply would go throughout the dreamshare community and the seller, Tommy and Marcel’s employer, would make twice the profit.

They had met in a warehouse afterwards as Eames unloaded the cargo from the back of Tommy’s car and set it on some crates. It had taken some time to wait for the shipment to arrive, to follow the Russians, and now that it was done all Eames wanted to do was collect his cut and go.

As Marcel handed him the bundle of cash, Eames looked at him, seeing him worried.

“What’s with the face, mate?”

Marcel shook his head and as Eames went to open his coat pocket to stash his cut, he heard the click of a gun. He turned just in time to see Tommy holding a gun at him and when it fired off, Eames fell back against the warehouse floor.

He gasped for air, watching Tommy kneel down beside him, taking back Eames’ money as Marcel watched them, biting his bottom lip. Tommy then stood up and nudged him, urging him to go. Eames felt the pain sear through his shoulder, his chest, the blood pooling thickly on his shirt and coat. He groaned, bringing his hand to the wound, adding pressure to it as his mind reeled, trying not to go into shock.

He knew he should have left.

He knew he should have trusted his instincts.

And the only thing that ran through his mind as he heard Tommy’s car peel off, was Arthur.


	9. Chapter 9

+

It took Eames a long while to gather enough strength to reach into his pocket and take his cell phone out. He couldn’t call the police, so with shaky fingers he called a cab instead.

It took him even longer to pull himself up to his feet, and in between bouts of nausea and his vision blackening around the edges, to get far enough outside where the cab would be able to see him. He was shaking by the time he climbed in the back seat and gasped out ‘hospital.’ His body temperature was dropping as he held his shaking, bloody hand to his chest right below his collarbone, and he was grateful he had worn a black coat so he wouldn’t look like an extra in a horror film.   
He managed to stay awake until he arrived at the hospital, where the lights blinded him enough that as the car stopped he fell back against the seat and passed out.

Eames didn’t wake again for a while and when he finally regained consciousness, he wondered how long he had been out. His mouth felt dry, his lips chapped, and he was as weak as a kitten. The room was warm, the curtains pulled with just a little bit of light pouring through, and he could hear the constant beeping from the heart monitor beside him. His right arm rested across his chest as something was clipped over his pointer finger on his right hand. He swallowed dryly and tried to sit up, only to feel the ache throughout his body when a nurse came in. She spoke with a thick Dutch accent, but he understood her English well enough as she made small talk with him - asking how he was feeling, if he was thirsty, and checking his vitals.   
When he nodded, she brought him over a little plastic cup with a straw and she asked him if he would like to contact someone.

“How long have I been asleep?”

“Nearly one week. You were in and out a lot.”

It took him a moment to register that - followed by thoughts of Arthur, then Mal.

“My cell phone please?”

The nurse set the cup down and went to the small cupboard-like closet as she retrieved his personal items from a plastic bag, taking his cell phone out and bringing it back to him. Once she was gone he looked at the screen, his bloody fingerprints all over it, a notification light blinking in the corner.

He swiped the screen, unlocking it as he saw the vast number of missed calls and text messages.

Most were from Arthur, concern and worry in each message - the rest from Mal all of her’s asking where he was and why he wasn’t answering. He checked his voicemail, the only one there from Arthur.

“Eames, you haven’t picked up your phone in three days. Please call me. I love you.”

He had to call him first and the line barely rung before Arthur answered.

“Where have you been!? I was worried to death!”

Eames smiled a little, hearing Arthur’s anger laced with concern.

“I’m sorry, darling. Something came up.”

There was raspiness in his voice, tired and full of ache and Arthur immediately picked up on it.

“What’s wrong? You sound terrible. Are you sick?”

He didn’t want to worry him, cause him concern because he knew he was still working.

“Yes. It’s why I didn’t call. I missed out on most of the job...I’ve been in bed near my death.”

The irony of how close he truly was to his death was not lost on him.

“Oh. I’m sorry I yelled at you. I was just scared.”

“It’s all right, love. Listen, I’m going to stay here a bit more then go home. I’ve already lost out on the money and there’s no need for me to stay any longer.”

“Ok. I’ll try to get out there soon.”

“All right. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

When they hung up, he called Mal and spun the same story about being deathly ill and he promised as soon as he was feeling better, he would go to California to see her before she popped.

In the middle of the night, Eames slowly unhooked himself from everything and slowly got dressed, bracing his arm against his chest so he didn’t agitate his wound and stitches. Once he was done, he managed to steal a sling and snuck out of the hospital since he had left his things back in his hotel room.

He only stayed in the room long enough to arrange a flight back to London and then checked out and went home.

Eames still felt lousy. He felt ill and weak and the one and only glance he caught of himself, he looked like death - his eyes practically black from the sunken bags underneath, his skin ghastly, losing all the color he had from Barcelona.

When he got back to London, it was raining. He took a cab from Heathrow to his flat and managed to trudge to his door and got inside. His mind was foggy and he was sure he had lost or forgotten something, but all he wanted to do was crawl in bed and wait for Arthur.

+

  
He didn’t wait long.

Eames had gone in and out of a fog for who knows how long, but when he woke up he saw Arthur sitting beside him, smoothing his hair from his brow. He blinked, trying to focus as he asked,

“Hey...what are you doing here?”

“You weren’t sick.”

Eames felt as his arm braced against his chest as he realized that Arthur could see his bandages.

“I wasn’t.”

“You’re burning up. I think you have an infection.”

“Probably. I snuck out of the hospital.”

“Idiot.”

Eames gave a small smile as Arthur sighed.

He heard Arthur on the phone speaking softly, dozing in and out of sleep, feeling cool towels on his forehead and an ice pack on his neck to bring his fever down. When he woke up again, Arthur was helping him sit up to make him swallow some pills and then some water before letting him sleep again.

When he woke up again, he was feeling better, his temperature back to normal and Arthur at his side. He turned slightly, noticing he was naked under his sheets and blankets, while Arthur was in his pajamas and on his laptop, a mug of tea on the nightstand.

“Hey.”

“Hi. How do you feel?”

“Better. How long was I out?”

“Two days. I managed to get some antibiotics from a contact in Kensington.”

“Thank you. I wasn’t expecting you back so soon.”

“I wasn’t expecting you to be face down on your bed, sweating through a bullet wound when I got here.”

“I should explain.”

“You should.”

“They were former mates of mine. But they turned on me. I don’t know why...I guess the money was more important.”

“They left you for dead.”

“Yeah…”

“I could track them down.”

“Don’t bother. Really.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t want you to worry. You were in the middle of a job.”

“You’re more important than a job.”

Eames brought his good hand to Arthur’s arm, smoothing his fingers down his skin.

“I’m sorry.”

Arthur set his laptop aside as he laid down, minding Eames’ wound as he held onto him, kissing his face.

“It’s ok. I’m just...so relieved you’re alive.”

It was days before Eames felt well enough to get up, shower, change his clothes and eat something. He was grateful for Arthur being there, tending to him, taking care of him and he was sure that if he hadn’t been, he would have died.

Arthur even changed his bandages and checked to make sure his stitches were healing properly, which impressed Eames.

“How do you know how to do all this stuff?”

He asked as Arthur threw away the old wrapping and applied a new bandage over the small wound right under Eames’ collarbone. He smiled as he peeled off a strip of medical tape and said,

“I’m good at my job, Eames. I have to be ready for everything. But luckily the hospital did all the hard work for me so all I have to do is change your bandage and eventually, take out the stitches.”

Eames was really impressed.

They laid low as Eames healed but eventually he knew he had to go see Mal. She was a lot further along and he couldn’t waste much more time without have a proper reason.

Arthur wanted to go with him, he wasn’t comfortable with Eames going alone, his stitches only now freshly removed. But Arthur couldn’t stop him.

“I’ll stay a day or so, then head back.”

“Mal will be upset.”

“I never stay too long. Plus, she’s got the sprog to worry about now so stay here, wait for me, keep the bed warm.”  
Arthur smiled and kissed him, promising he would do just that.

 

+

  
When Eames arrived in California, he went straight to Mal and Dom’s house. As he knocked and waited he realized he felt different, not so worried, not so longing for Mal as he once did. As he lay on the warehouse floor in Amsterdam, his coherent thoughts had been of Arthur and no one else.

Dom opened the door and smiled, welcoming Eames in.

“It’s good to see you. It’s been a couple of months.”

“Yeah, sorry for the wait Dom, I just got over the flu.”

Dom nodded as he walked him to the kitchen.

“No, it’s fine. Best not to get Mal sick.”

He was struck by the sight of Mal at the kitchen table, wearing a long, flowing pink and white empire waist dress, the sleeves short and flowering around her shoulders, her hair pulled up at the crown of her head as she sat barefoot sipping from her tea cup. She was large, the swell of her belly prominent even with the cover of her dress. She set her cup down and started to get up as she smiled and then walked over to Eames, hugging him, her belly pressed against him, shocking him further.

“Eames. I missed you so much. Look at you, just over a bout of illness and you look wonderful.”

“Mal. Look at you...a belly full of arms and legs.”

Mal laughed and looked down, petting her stomach as she beamed.

“Yeah...just a few more months to go. Will you come? When she’s born?”

“Depends. You know my life, Mal.”

She pouted and he sighed, defenseless against that look.

“All right. I’ll keep the last month open for you.”

She smiled again and took his hands and looked up at him as she said,

“Do you want to see the nursery?”

“Mal, Eames doesn’t care about the nursery. He’s here to see you.” said Dom.

Mal shot him a look as Eames laughed.

“Thanks mate, but she was just being polite. I have no say in the matter.”

Mal nodded as she dragged him to the nursery. Eames stopped in his tracks as soon as they entered the room, surprised at the sight of the nursery. That was the thing about Mal, she didn't conform to tradition and paint the nursery pink - instead, she left it white and had a beautiful forest scene painted on the wall. Grass lined the bottom borders all around the room, and there were deer, bears, squirrels and birds all throughout. A fancy black crib stood against one wall, a changing station on the other, with a bird mobile hanging from the ceiling near the window right over a rocking chair.

“It’s nice. I like that you didn’t do the cliche pink.”

“God, no. That would be awful.”

He laughed as Mal grinned in response and held her stomach.

“I’m dying for a cigarette though. I can’t wait to birth this girl - I’m going to smoke for days.”

Eames laughed again as Mal took him back to the kitchen, where she served him some tea.

He stayed a few hours until it got late, then took a cab into the city and checked into the first nice looking hotel he saw. It didn’t matter since he was alone.

He texted Arthur, letting him know he was fine and getting some rest, and though it took a few hours Arthur got back to him with,

_‘Good. I love you.’_

Those words still sent a chill through Eames, hearing Arthur’s voice in his mind when he read them. He still felt very much in love with Arthur, and rather than the feeling waning now that he had him, he felt it had only intensified.

He thought of Arthur every second - what was he doing, what was he thinking, what was he wearing - and Eames missed him as if he was missing a limb.

The next day when Eames went to visit Mal again, Dom was busy in his office and Mal was in a different dress - still long, still empire waist, though it haltered around her neck now and was a dark blue color. Her hair was down and she remained barefoot as she opened the door for him. They greeted each other as warmly as ever, and after they went inside they headed to the garden where Eames took a seat and Mal soon waddled out the tea tray. She sat down on the other side of the table as she sighed and Eames poured the tea for her.

“Tell me, darling, how are things for you?” She asked.

“Well. Very well actually. Other than being sick.”

“Mmm. I talked to Arthur the other night. He sounds so tired. The last time I saw him, he looked good, healthy with a bit of color. But I guess it was just temporary.”

“You know Arthur, always a stick in the mud. If he got any color it would be because he accidently stepped outside for too long.”

Mal laughed, sincerely laughed and Eames was relieved. He knew Arthur better than that and his slight jab towards him was bought. Mal tucked her hair behind her ear as she stirred her cup of tea and said,

“He’s sweet though. I’m sure Dom will get him in another job soon enough. He’s getting better at the extraction.”

“I’m sure Arthur’s got nothing to do with that.”

“Arthur’s far more organized. It’s why he’s the best and why Dom depends on him so much.”

Eames nodded, taking a sip of his own tea. He was glad he wore jeans and a shirt along with his trainers, the warmth of the tea with the spring day was perfect. After a comfortable silence, Mal set her cup down and said,

“When will you be leaving town?”

“I have a job in a couple of days in Rome, so maybe tomorrow.”

Mal sighed deeply.

“I miss it. I miss working. I miss being active. And when she’s born...I still won’t be able to go off to Paris or to Rome…”

“You knew the risks Mal.”

“I know. But I didn’t think I would miss it so much.”

“She won’t stay little forever.”

Mal nodded, knowing he was right.

 

+

  
He kissed Mal good bye when he was ready to leave and he took a few moment to stand and admire her as if she was his wife, as he had a hundred times over in the past few years. He settled his hand over her stomach, feeling the girl kick and he grinned.

“You and I should have one. Dom would never know.”

Mal looked up from her stomach and gave him a smile as she said,

“Oh now you want to knock me up. When I’ve been offering all these years.”

“What can I say, seeing you like this brings out all kinds of instincts. We would have a beautiful baby.”

“We would.”

She brought her hand up to his face, cupping his jaw as she sighed.

“There’s so much what-if between us.”

“Not really. You’re pretty much spot on with what you say about me.”

She laughed as Eames did too.

“I better go, I’ll miss my flight and I still have one more stop to make.”

“What stop?”

“Just going to pick up a gift for someone I love.”

Mal beamed and Eames didn’t have the heart to tell her it wasn’t her he was referring to.


	10. Chapter 10

 

+

Eames held the ring up to the light, turning it over in his fingers carefully.

It was a platinum Tiffany’s band with elegant script all around it, inspired by handwritten invitations. All around the band were the words ‘I love you’.

It was hopelessly sentimental and Eames thought he was jumping the gun a bit, but he had never been more sure of anything else in his life. He wanted to marry Arthur, he wanted a life with him, but he wasn’t sure if Arthur would feel the same way.  
It was his only nagging doubt, but it wasn’t enough to stop him from buying the ring and keeping the Tiffany blue box - with telling white ribbon around it - in his coat pocket. He packed it away in his carry on luggage, and when he left to head back to London he toyed with the box in his seat.

He was sure of how much he wanted to take this next step. He had been since Barcelona...probably sooner if he really admitted it to himself. It was confirmed when he was shot in Amsterdam and all he could do was think of Arthur - worried that he might not see him again, scared of how he would find out if he died - and it was all that had kept him going. He wanted to blurt it out when Arthur had taken care of him in his own flat; had made sure he ate, made sure he was clean and dressed.  
Now he was holding the ring he wanted to propose to Arthur with.

He wasn’t sure how he would or even when he would, and he feared Arthur might be overwhelmed and leave - or turn him down completely. He thought it best to give themselves more time together, though the still healing wound on his chest throbbed and made him think he shouldn’t.

He spent the whole flight thinking about it, and then the entire cab ride back to his flat. When he arrived at his home, he stashed the box back into his carry on and paid the fare as he got out.

His entire apartment had been cleaned - he noticed the unmistakable scent of cleanliness as he walked through the door, and he was just a little bit more in love when he realized Arthur had done it. As he headed to his bedroom, he saw the stacks of once messy clothes were gone and everything was back in order. Arthur himself sat on the bed, also made, wearing Eames' own pajama pants and plain white t-shirt. Eames didn't think he'd seen Arthur wear his own tops since he got there, and he smiled at the sight of him. Clearly he hadn’t heard him come in - a single white earbud coming from his ear connecting to his laptop was the cause of that. Eames stood by the open door, setting his luggage down by his feet as he watched Arthur work, completely endeared by him and loving how he worked with such intense focus, his eyes skimming over the screen as his fingers flew across the keys.

Eames faintly wondered how long he could stand there and watch him, utterly enamored, when the ring in his bag crossed his mind again.

When Arthur stopped for a moment to think, he turned his head and saw Eames. He gasped in surprise, pulling the earbuds from his ears as he jumped up, ran across the bed, hopped to the floor and ran to Eames. Arthur threw his arms around Eames and kissed his mouth, then his cheek, his jaw, smiling all the while. Eames held him in return, kissing him back as best he he could as he whispered,

“Well...someone is glad to see me.”

“How long have you been standing there?”

“A few minutes.”

“I’m glad you’re back.”

“Me too.”

They kissed for a few more minutes before they finally pulled away from each other, giving Eames a chance to come into the room and take off his coat as well as pull in his bag. As he began to undress - giving Arthur the opportunity to shut down his laptop - Eames said,

“I see you’ve been keeping busy.”

“Oh...well you had that huge pile of clothes. I didn’t clean everything by the way, I didn’t want you to think I was snooping.”

“Darling, if I had anything to hide, I wouldn’t leave you alone in my flat for two days.”

Arthur gave a small smile as Eames sat down to take off his shoes. He then suddenly felt Arthur’s lean arms around his shoulders, and he smiled as he turned and looked over his shoulder and gave Arthur a kiss.

“How was Mal?”

“She’s good. Big. She asked me to come see her when she was ready to drop the sprog.”

“Me too.”

“We can go together then. It wouldn’t be strange if we both showed up at once.”

Arthur nodded.

 

+

  
Eames didn’t want to go anywhere once he got home. He wanted to stay in bed with Arthur and sleep in and wake up late and have tea with him and have sex until they were both exhausted and filthy and wet.

And most days - that was exactly what they did.

In between those hedonist days they kept in touch with Mal, following her progress and making sure she didn’t go into labor early.

The ring was still burning in Eames’ mind. He had left it in his luggage, and when Arthur was out of the room he took it out and hid it under his side of the mattress, then finally got around to unpacking. He thought about it all the time - but much like when he struggled to say I love you, no moment felt right.

At night, when Arthur fell asleep, Eames lay beside him, enjoying the feel of Arthur’s arm draped over his chest and his head on his shoulder, close to his wound. He held him with his right arm, his hand over Arthur’s back, while his free hand stroked the arm thrown over his chest. It was quiet with the exception of the city right outside the door of his flat. The sounds of cars and sirens rang in the distance but other than that, it was peaceful. Arthur slept deeply as Eames watched him, letting his fingertips smooth over the fine hair on Arthur’s forearm and smelling his hair before he sighed to himself.

He felt Arthur shift a bit - his arm tucked between them twitched slightly before he settled back into deeper sleep - and Eames continued to be still. He eventually moved his arm up and, minding Arthur’s face, he let his fingers walk over the rounded scar, puckered skin now in a small circle where the bullet from Tommy’s gun had pierced through him.

That score still had to be settled, he just didn’t want Arthur involving himself in it. He hated Tommy and Marcel for turning on him, for leaving him to die and - adding insult to injury - for robbing him as well. They almost took away his chance to be with Arthur, and that would not go unpunished. But it would have to wait until Arthur took a job that brought him out of London before Eames could go after his former friends.

He moved his hand back to Arthur’s warm skin and turned slightly towards him . They were both still naked from earlier; the sweat had dried on their skin by now, but Eames was never more content to be in bed. He tilted his head down and kissed Arthur’s brow, hearing him make a soft little sound in his sleep. As his hand slid back up he found Arthur's hand and slipped his palm underneath, lacing their fingers together as Eames held him and smiled. Unlike in Sardinia when Arthur was asleep and he had whispered his declaration, Eames knew he could now say it to him and Arthur would respond in kind.

It was nearly a month before Arthur took another job.

He groaned as he packed, still in his pajamas as he pushed his hair away from his face and said,

“You’ve made me so lazy. I just want to be in bed all the time.”

“Nothing wrong with that, darling.”

Arthur laughed and shook his head as he continued packing. His flight was tomorrow morning and he would have to leave when it was still dark. Eames would get up once Arthur was showered and dressed and walk him to the door, where they would wait for the cab and kiss softly in the cover of the remaining night before he left.

“I just...I don’t know. I know if I stay still too long, I’ll drive myself crazy but once I leave, all I can do is think about coming back here.”

“I know the feeling.”

Arthur paused and looked up from his suitcase and looked at Eames sitting beside his bag.

“It doesn’t bother you I’ve been here so long.”

It wasn’t a question and Eames knew it.

“Why would it?”

“I was thinking...when Mal is ready, we can stay at my place in California.”

“You have a place there, love?”

“I do. I just...I thought it might be presumptuous to have you stay with me. But after spending all the time in your place here…”

Eames smiled, taking Arthur’s hand and kissing the top side of it, looking up at Arthur again.

“Silly boy. Don’t you realize how mad I am about you yet?”

“I don’t think you realize how mad I am about you.”

Eames smiled and thought, ‘ _this is it_ ’ - but as he opened his mouth to speak, Arthur’s phone rang.

He sighed as Arthur gave his hand a squeeze before pulling away and Eames started to remember how busy Arthur got, consumed by the job at hand, and that this was just the start of it.

 

 

+

  
While Arthur was gone, Eames took the time to find Tommy and Marcel.

He tapped old contacts, waited and listened through the underground and hung around King’s Cross until he finally got word of them. He waited until night and dressed in his most casual clothes - jeans, trainers and a black shirt. He slung a cap on his head and tucked his gun into the back of his jeans, shirt pulled over as he headed out towards the dive bar - a hole in the wall that he got into with just a nod of the head. He spotted Tommy and Marcel at the bar, both of them drinking and smoking, looking as if they had not a care in the world.

He headed over to them and as they talked, Eames stood between them and threw his arms around them in a friendly gesture. He laughed a bit as if he was joining in on the joke.

“Ahhh...mates it’s been some time, yeah? How have you two been? Me, just the same old, same old. Though you know, I got this...striking pain right in the chest. I guess that’s what happens when former friends try to shoot you in the back.”

He tightened his grip around each of their necks as Tommy froze in place and Marcel looked terrified. Eames looked at them both before softly saying,

“We got lots to chat about, boys. How about we step outside, hm?”

Marcel swallowed hard and set his beer down while Tommy kept smoking.

“Didn’t think you’d make it.”

“I know you didn’t. Come along now.”

Tommy got up from his seat and Eames turned the two of them toward the exit. Marcel whispered softly to him, apologizing.

“Eames...I’m sorry. I didn’t...it wasn’t my idea. It wasn’t Tommy’s either, we had to. We-”

“Shhh.”

Marcel shut up instantly as Eames took them outside, walking them around to the alley of the bar as he shoved Tommy forward, then Marcel.

“I trusted you two.”

Marcel stood quietly, shaking slightly, as Tommy glared back at Eames,

“That was your mistake, mate.”

“Not one I’ll ever repeat.”

He drew his gun from behind his back and fired off a shot right at Tommy, dropping him immediately. Marcel was splattered in his blood, the color draining from his face, now visibly shaking. Eames wasn’t sure where he'd shot Tommy at first but by the fact that he hadn’t moved or made a sound, he figured he'd instantly killed him.

“You owe me a lot of money.”

“I….I can get it.”

“Three days. I’ll come round to collect and if you come through, we’ll call it even. If not, you can pay me the way Tommy did.”  
Marcel nodded, still shaking as he swallowed hard, and Eames left.

      He hadn’t wanted to dip back into his past - having worked so hard in staying out of it once he had met up with Mal and gotten involved in dreamshare, which was a much cleaner business - but debts like that had to be settled and he didn’t need it hanging over his head should Arthur decide to move on with their lives.

Marcel did come through with his cut of the Amsterdam job. When he gave it to Eames he looked at him fearfully, and Eames counted his money before tucking it into his coat pocket.

“Don’t you ever come round me again.”

Marcel nodded and ran off, Eames watching him run across the street and towards the subway, glancing back over his shoulder once before he picked up his speed.

 

 

+

  
It wasn’t long before Arthur contacted him, telling him his job was almost over.

“How is Dubai?”

“Hot. Busy. The usual.”

“How much longer do you have?”

“Just a few more days. I thought you could meet me in L.A.”

“It would be easier than you coming back here.”

“Mm. Have you stayed out of trouble?”

Eames glanced at the money Marcel returned to him as he grinned a bit.

“Of course, darling.”

“Why don’t I believe you?”

His tone was playful and it reminded him far too much of Mal.

“Because you know me too well.”

       In L.A days later, Eames stood in LAX. He yawned, having just woken up from his flight and he still had a few hours before Arthur showed up. He got himself a cup of coffee and some food, deciding to call Mal as he charged his phone.

She was due that week and while she was anxious to get it over with, she was afraid as well.

“I’m scared now that I’m so close. But I also can't wait for it to be over - I’m sick of being pregnant.”

Eames laughed as he sipped his coffee.

“Any day now, duck.”

“Are you coming by today or are you going to rest?”

“I slept on the flight. If you want me to come by, I will.”

“Arthur’s coming too. He’s in Dubai so I’m sure he’ll be in later.”

Eames bit his tongue from telling her exactly when but instead he said,

“I haven’t seen him in a bit. How has he been?”

“Good, better actually. He seems a lot happier when I talk to him.”

“That’s interesting.”

“Interesting how?”

“Mal, don’t start. I already told you about the two of us.”

“I know, but I was always a little hopeful…”

Eames could almost see her wistful face and the urge to tell her he was on the brink of proposing to him sat on the tip of his tongue. Instead, he changed the subject.

By the time Arthur’s flight landed, Eames had caught a nap and eaten, though he felt disgusting and in dire need of a shower. He went to Arthur’s gate when he was texted the information and the two of them took a cab to Arthur’s home.

He kissed Arthur's cheek when they greeted each other and in the cab, Eames took his hand. Arthur had no color on his face, pale as he was when he left London despite having been in Dubai. Eames missed him and he couldn’t wait to show him just how much.

“How long did you wait?”

“About three hours. The timing wasn’t too off.”

Arthur nodded, yawning as he leaned back in the seat.

When the cab stopped, they were in front of some high rise towers, luxury condos complete with doorman that nodded his head towards Arthur when they walked in. There was a quick stop where Arthur collected his mail at the front desk before heading to the elevator.

“Nice building.”

Arthur looked up from his bundle of mail and smiled a bit.

“It’s home. I like your place better.”

Eames laughed a bit as they waited and got to Arthur’s floor. After walking down the red carpeted hallway Arthur stopped at his door and opened it, letting Eames inside first.

It wasn’t really what Eames expected, but it was so Arthur that Eames could feel him in every bit of decoration and furniture. The living room windows were floor to ceiling, letting the view from the city in and letting the lights color the hardwood floors. The coffee table in the center of the room was made of black polished mahogany wood, the couches a dark red color, while bookshelves lined the walls. Those walls eventually led into a dining room and kitchen with a cut out window that served as a counter-like area where bar stools settled in front of it. Eames looked around, seeing the few framed photos Arthur had - one he recognized right off the bat, a young, still baby faced Arthur in his graduation robes standing next to Dom, both of them holding their diplomas. Another equally important one was one of Mal and Arthur, both of them wearing beautiful formal clothes - Arthur in a dark suit, and Mal in an equally dark dress, with wonderfully styled hair. Arthur's hand rested on her hip as they smiled for the camera.

“Look at the two of you.”

“Oh, that was a party in Paris...some of Dom and Mal’s contacts.”

“You two look perfect.”

“It’s all Mal.”

He had one more photo on his shelf and he looked at it immediately. It was Mal and Arthur again from Mal’s wedding, with Mal sitting on Arthur’s lap, her arms looped around his neck as they both looked up at the camera. If Eames hadn’t known better, he would have thought they were the married couple.

He smiled at the image until Arthur took his hand and lead him away.

“Let’s shower.”

“That sounds like a good idea.”

 

 

+

  
They showered together, getting comfortable and loose under the spray, kissing slowly, letting the pressure build up between them as they held onto each other.

When they were done showering they went to bed and finished what they had started before falling asleep in Arthur’s bed.  
In the morning, Eames woke up to an empty bed. The curtains were still closed but he could sense it was morning. He turned and sat up, feeling the sheets and blankets falling from his body as he ran his fingers through his hair. Just then, Arthur returned holding two cups of coffee, wearing his bathrobe, his tousled wavy hair a mess.

“Good morning.”

“Good morning, sunshine.”

Arthur smiled, dimples appearing as he set a cup down on the nightstand near Eames. Taking a seat next to Eames, Arthur kissed him hello as Eames then took a sip of his coffee - tasting the proper brew and humming.

“Delicious. Your taste in coffee is splendid.”

“I owe you for all the tea.”

Eames smiled as he raised his mug to him.

“Cheers.”

      It wasn't until the end of the week that Mal went into labor. Dom called Arthur and let him know and soon he and Eames rushed to meet them at the hospital. Dom was pacing in his scrubs, anxious for Arthur and Eames to meet up with them.

“There you guys are! What took so long?”

“It’s only been twenty minutes, calm down Dom," Arthur replied.

Dom sighed and nodded slightly as Eames said,

“Go back to Mal. We’ll be in the waiting room.”

Dom nodded again, thanking them before returning to his wife as Eames and Arthur sat to wait.

It would be a while before Mal gave birth but eventually, in the middle of the night, Dom returned to let them know.

“Phillipa is here.”

Eames was nearly asleep, Arthur keeping busy on his phone, but they both perked up immediately at the news. They got up and headed to Mal’s room where she was asleep, her hair pulled back neatly. Not too far away, a little bundle lay in a hospital crib. Dom reached in and took his daughter into his arms as he whispered,

“Say hello to your uncle Arthur.”

He passed her over to Arthur first, Arthur sitting down to hold her as he smiled at the baby in his arms. Eames looked at them for a moment before he heard a yawn and saw Mal. He went over to her, sitting at her bed side as he took her hand.

“Hello Mallorie.”

Mal smiled as she held his hand, looking exhausted but still as beautiful as Eames had ever seen her.

“Eames. You came.”

“Did you think I was going to sit through your planning and then not show up at the pay off?”

She smiled a little, still looking sleepy as she asked,

“Did you see Phillipa?”

“Arthur’s got her. I’ll visit next.”

“Do you think she’s pretty?”

“Not really, she’s kind of squishy and red. Kind of looks like Dom.”

Mal laughed before giving a sigh of pain, while Arthur laughed as well. Dom was the only one who gave Eames a look.  
They stayed and visited for a while until Mal was too exhausted to talk. Eames kissed her forehead once she fell asleep and Arthur gave Phillipa back to her father before they headed out.

It was dawn by the time they both left the hospital. The city was nearly silent, so it took a while before they were able to hail a cab. Eames looked at Arthur - seeing him in his khakis and white button down, sleeves rolled up to his elbow, the tails of his shirt untucked with some obvious signs he had slept in his clothes at some point. He had done his best to brush his hair back, but he looked so young and painfully beautiful that Eames couldn’t resist.

Eames took his fingers as they stood beside each other. Arthur was distracted by looking for a cab but looked back at Eames when he felt his hand clasping his own, smiling lightly.

Eames would blame the lack of sleep on his actions as he looked back at Arthur and murmered almost as if to himself,

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

“Will you marry me?”


	11. Chapter 11

+

 

Arthur smiled, sleepy still. Dimples appeared as he said,

“You must be exhausted.”

“I am.”

Arthur chuckled softly as he shook his head. Once he saw a cab he raised his free hand and stopped it, the both of them getting in and heading back to Arthur’s apartment.

It was almost a relief that Arthur didn’t take him seriously but all the same, Eames was disappointed. After getting back to his apartment, they crawled into bed and fell asleep almost immediately. Some hours laters later, as the sun begin to sink into the horizon, Eames woke up. He yawned, turning over on his back and saw Arthur on his side facing him. He slid his arm over his side and inched closer to him - kissing the tip of his nose, his brow, then his cheek - until Arthur smiled a little and opened his eyes. He blinked a few times before he yawned, turning his head away before turning back to Eames.

“Hey. Are you hungry?”

“A little.”

Arthur sat up slowly, reaching up to his hair, running his fingers through it as he looked back at Eames, turning his body slightly to face him.

“Were you serious? About what you said this morning?”

Arthur looked concerned, as if the thought had been weighing on his mind since then. Eames thought about it, taking a moment to weigh his options before he decided to go through with it. He sat up - throwing the covers off himself as he got out of bed - and walked over to his luggage, opening it and taking out the Tiffany’s box and going back to bed. He sat beside Arthur, feeling his heart beating

frantically in his chest as he undid the white ribbon, too afraid to look up at Arthur’s face as he removed the velvet pouch from the box and then tipped it open to slide the ring onto his palm. He set the pouch down and then held the ring, holding it up and finally looked at Arthur.

His face was unreadable, but his eyes had followed each of Eames’ movements.

Eames swallowed hard as he took Arthur’s left hand, gripping it tightly as he felt how much his hand holding the ring was trembling. His throat was dry and it took him a moment to gather the right words. His chest was tight as he said whispered,

“I...I was serious.”

He swallowed again, feeling like a school boy as his voice cracked. He cleared his throat as he looked down for a moment, then back at Arthur.

“Arthur...will you marry me?”

Arthur was still silent as he looked down and bit his lip, his hand gripping Eames’ as he softly replied.

“Yes.”

It was as if all the pressure in the world was lifted from his shoulders as Eames laughed nervously.

“Yeah?”

Arthur nodded, smiling now as Eames lifted his hand up and slid the band over his ring finger, then let him admire it before the younger man threw himself forward, Eames catching him as they kissed again and again. They laughed softly as Arthur moved back and looked at him.

“How long have you been planning this?”

“A while. I wanted it to be more romantic.”

“I don’t need romance, Eames.”

“I know you don’t need it, but you deserve it.”

Arthur smiled brightly and kissed Eames again, deeper than before as he whispered softly to him,

“I love you…”

“I love you too, darling.”

 

+

  
He caught Arthur admiring his ring a few times.

After they showered and Arthur stood in his robe in the bathroom, he paused to look at his hand as he used a towel to dry his hair.

As they made lunch, while Eames prepared the chicken, he turned to say something when he saw Arthur in front of the stove, stirring with one hand as he looked at his ring.

After they had sex Eames went to clean up, and when he came back Arthur was laying on his stomach and looked at his hand, watching as he tilted his fingers towards the light.

Eames didn’t say anything about it, just smiled to himself and got back in bed with him, kissing the nape of his neck and smoothing his hair back as he held him close.

A few days later, they went to visit Mal. Arthur showed up first and had removed his engagement ring, worried Mal might notice it despite the distraction of motherhood.

He had fought against it heavily and didn’t really want to but Eames agreed, knowing that Mal would notice and no doubt put two and two together. So he slid it off his finger and instead looped it through a thin silver chain and put that on instead. He tucked the chain into his shirt and adjusted his collar, asking Eames if he could notice it.

“Not at all. You tucked it away nicely.”

Arthur nodded and pressed his hand to it over his shirt before he kissed Eames to leave.

           By the time Eames arrived, Mal answered the door - somehow looking as if she never gave birth days earlier. She wore jeans and a striped blue and white top that fell off her shoulder as she held Phillipa against her, a soft towel draped over Mal’s bare shoulder as the baby dozed against it. Mal’s hair was tied up in a messy bun and she still looked so lovely. Eames kissed her cheek as he presented her with a gift.

Of course, he hadn’t bought it. He was a terrible friend who forgot to get his closest friend a gift because he was caught up in Arthur.

It was nothing fancy, just a soft white teddy bear with a pink bow around its neck but Mal awed and thanked him nonetheless.

“Come in! Thank you for this.”

“You’re welcome. And how is my should-be daughter?”

Mal laughed as she nudged him.

“Dom would kill you if he heard you say that.”

“Watch me tremble. Let me hold her.”

Mal carefully laid Phillipa in his arms as he sighed at the weightlessness of her and he smiled as he looked at her - amazed at how tiny she was, the whisps of blond on her head, her bright blue eyes looking up at Eames.

“So, where is Dom?”

“In his office, with Arthur.”

“Mmm.”

He sat down and smoothed his hand over her tiny head and smiled as she grasped at his fingers.

“She’s lovely, darling. She’s all you.”

“I think she looks like Dom.”

“She doesn’t.”

He looked up and smiled at her as Mal smiled back and then excused herself to get Arthur and Dom out from the office.

 

+

  
They had lunch and talked a bit while Phillipa slept in Mal’s arms - the subject eventually turning to work.

“I have a job lined up and Mal still can’t join us so I’m on lead. I need my best point and Eames, we could use a forger.”

Eames resisted looking at Arthur as he instead asked,

“When?”

“About two weeks. Mal’s parents want to see Phillipa and then from there, we’re off to Berlin.”

“I should be able to. Let me get back to you.”

Dom nodded while Mal stroked Phillipa’s back as she looked at him.

          Eventually, Mal gave Phillipa over to Dom as she and Eames stepped out in the garden to have a cigarette.

“Both you and Arthur said the same thing.”

Eames shrugged, slipping his hand in his jean pocket as he looked at Mal, both of them smoking.

“We’re both busy, Mal.”

“I feel like you’re hiding something from me.”

“Never, duck. You know me too well.”

She sighed a little, looking away as she smoked her cigarette.

“Mal. Come on.”

“You said it yourself, I know you too well. You’re hiding something from me.”

“You know I wouldn’t lie to you.”

He took her hand and held it for a moment as he felt a deep stab of guilt for lying to her...for continuing to lie to her.  
When Arthur and Eames were both ready to leave, they used the excuse of sharing a cab and once they got back to Arthur’s apartment, Arthur undid the necklace around his throat as he slipped his engagement ring back on. As they begin to take off their shoes, Arthur said,

“We should talk about this.”

“About?”

“This taking jobs thing. We can’t do every job together.”

Eames laughed a bit as he held his sneaker by two fingers, letting it dangle slightly before he let it drop.

“Darling, I don’t think we need to rearrange our agreement because I’ve asked you to marry me. We can keep it the way it is.”

“I think we should tell Mal. Eventually.”

“I think eventually works. How about after we get married?”

“Yeah. I think that works.”

 

+

  
Eames loved to watch Arthur as he settled around his apartment, reacquainting himself with his home and allowing Eames to be a part of it.

Eames loved to be there too.

He loved to lay in Arthur’s one hundred thread count Egyptian sheets and cashmere blanket because he kept it constantly cold in his apartment because Arthur hated being hot.

He loved to watch him wearing designer sweat pants and socks and any one of Eames’ discarded t-shirts as he cooked, or just curled up beside Eames while they watched TV or slept together.

He loved the fact that Arthur made several cups of coffee throughout the days, sometimes alternating with cups of tea so Eames wouldn’t get sick of it. Arthur had large, tall clear mugs that he filled to the brim and he held with both hands and sipped slowly.  
  
They went out every other night, catching a movie, having dinner and visiting Mal.

Visiting the Cobb household gave Eames mixed feelings of being embraced and being unwelcomed. Dom was a strange mix of tolerance and coldness - not comfortable around Eames being there at all, not liking how he and Arthur spoke, hating the closeness he had with Mal and disliking him holding Phillipa. Eames learned quickly to not even touch the baby in front of Dom. However, with Mal, he felt as if he could stay there forever, always welcomed in her arms, grinning to himself when Mal would purposely give Phillipa to Eames as if to spite Dom, the both of them going to smoke alone and steal moments, making Eames long for the days of just him and her in her Paris flat.

But despite Dom’s mixed feelings towards him, Eames still felt happy, especially when he got to go home with Arthur in the end.

 

+

  
At the two week mark, they went with Dom to Berlin, Eames noticing Mal’s displeased look when they went by to pick up Dom to head to the airport. It would be a month tops but Mal looked as if she was being left behind forever.

Arthur helped Dom bring his bags to the cab as Eames said good bye to Mal.

“Love, what’s with the face? He’s coming back.”

“I want to go. I don’t want to be here, alone.”

“You have Pippa.”

Mal nodded, looking at her daughter as she then looked back up at Eames.

“I know, but it’s not the same. I feel like I’m missing out.”

“Missing out on what? Sharing a room to work in? The over tedious planning and research? Living in a hotel without the comforts of home and living on take out?”

“It’s more than that, Eames.”

He felt bad enough about lying to her about Arthur so he decided not to lie to her about this.

“I know, darling. But it’s like I told you, she won’t stay little forever.”

Mal nodded as Arthur then came up with Dom, ready to say bye to Mal as well. Eames stepped aside and watched Arthur take Phillipa, kissing her little nose, seeing her smile as he then hugged her and then kissed Mal on the cheek, telling her they would be back before she knew it. She nodded a tight lipped smile and took Phillipa back as Dom then said his good bye.

             The job in Berlin was a lot more taxing on Eames then he thought. He and Dom had begun to form a stiff, polite tolerance to one and other. Eames had always had some sort of resentment towards Dom for stealing Mal away, for making her his wife, for making her a mother and somehow cutting her out of his life and keeping her all to himself. Dom began to see that - without Mal as a shield, he saw Eames for what he was and now Arthur had to step in Mal’s place, trying to keep the peace between them as discussions turned to heated arguments and loud disagreements.

Arthur was good at staying neutral, not taking sides or being bias but more often than not, he would take Dom off to the side to let him cool off as he looked up at Eames, almost apologetic any time he and Dom argued.

Another thing that burned Eames was the amount of Arthur’s time Dom consumed.

For the first week of the Berlin job, Arthur stayed behind to work late and Eames would leave to work or more often, to go to bed. It was annoying and he swore that Dom was doing it on purpose.

It was the longest month of Eames’ life.

“Mal, your husband is driving me crazy.”

He heard Mal giggle on the other end as she said,

“Oh?”

“He has no idea what he’s doing most of the time. He relies on Arthur for everything. Why is he in charge of anything?”

Mal laughed again as she said,

“Because he’s good at his job. He’s a wonderful architect and he’s getting better at extracting.”

“Well he’s bullshit as a leader.”

“You do realize Arthur is more the lead then Dom, don’t you?”

“Of course. Arthur’s the best.”

He was sketching in his book and he realized he was drawing Mal, her face looking back at him, her hair long and falling over her shoulder.

“He is, which is why Dom depends on him.”

Eames sighed, knowing he was almost at the end of the tunnel with this job.

“I will never work with him again unless you’re here, duck.”

“I understand.”

They spoke a while longer until there was a faint cry in Mal’s background and she said,

“Oh, there’s Pippa. She’s up from her nap.”

“Go tend to my should-be daughter.”

Mal laughed again as she said,

“The next one will be yours.”

“Good. I want a boy.”

Mal only giggled again.

 

+

  
When the Berlin job was over and Eames got his cut, he headed back to London knowing Arthur would soon follow.

Sure enough, his fiance arrived at his flat, tired and in a foul mood. It was raining when Arthur came in just two hours behind Eames. Eames was still unpacking when Arthur entered, dropping his bag and shooting Eames a frustrated look.

“Oh, petal. Look at you.”

“My flight was horrible and Dom made me want to choke him out.”

Eames laughed softly as he finally emptied his luggage and then zipped it shut to leave to the side for later.

“I thought you and Dom were best of friends.”

“We are. But he was grating on this job. I miss Mal.”

Eames agreed as he took Arthur by his hand and helped him undress before he lead him to the shower.

They had just finished dinner and Arthur stood to take the dishes back to the sink as he said,

“I was thinking...what do you think about Paris?”

“I have fond memories of Paris, darling. Aside from spending wonderful days there with Mal, I met the love of my life there. I had wonderful holidays with the love of my life there. Why do you ask?”

Arthur smiled before taking the dishes into the kitchen and then returning to the table, sitting down again as he held his wine glass.

“I asked because I was thinking, maybe we could get married there.”

Eames smiled brightly, loving that idea as he took Arthur’s hand, running his thumb over Arthur’s engagement band.   
“Yes, let’s get married in Paris.”


	12. Chapter 12

+

Eames was fortunate that Mal was busy and they had just finished a job - it would be a bit before Mal came calling for him to come visit.

After a few days of rest in London, Arthur made preparations for them to go to Paris.

It was just the two of them, something that would weigh on Eames long afterwards because he knew no one wanted he and Arthur to be together more than Mal. But all at once, he loved it was just them; their secret, their little world.

While in their hotel room, after Eames had showered, he began to dress. Arthur had already dressed and gone ahead, saying he had to make sure everything was in order so Eames hadn’t seen him and he grinned a little, not at all missing the traditional aspect of it.

He dressed in a very nice suit that Arthur helped pick out and while Eames personally liked a bit of color in his wardrobe, when it came to Arthur offering help in dressing him for this event he couldn’t turn him down. After all, he was helping him choose his wedding attire. Eames put on black dress socks and then the pants of the suit, leaving them open as he got his white oxford on. He buttoned each tiny button carefully, all the way to the top before tucking in the tails into his pants, smoothing it against his body before zipping the fly and closing the button.

The cuffs came next. He was careful to not pull the button in frustration as it took him three tries to close the left cuff, while the right one was easy enough. Then came the simple black tie which he easily pulled into a fancy windsor knot, knowing Arthur would be impressed.

Before he got the coat on, he went back to the bathroom and combed his hair, parting it to the left and using some of Arthur’s expensive product, taming his usual bedhead. He had already shaved and sprayed cologne on and when he was done, he turned his head to check the angles, making sure he hadn’t missed anything before going back to the bedroom. There, he slid his shoes on, tying the thin black laces tightly. He then grabbed his coat, sliding it on and buttoning the front. He looked at himself in the full length mirror, pressing his hand to his stomach where butterflies fluttered inside, and he looked at himself.

The reflection was not one he recognized but he cleaned up nicely; he felt good enough to marry Arthur and he nodded, turning to get his phone, wallet and room key before leaving.

 

+

They had promised to meet at city hall and in the cab ride Eames fiddled with his phone, making sure he didn’t miss any calls or messages.

He feared Arthur would back out. He feared Arthur would call or text him, telling him he couldn’t go through with it anymore. But as Eames got closer to the government building and no messages came, he felt more at ease.

As the cab pulled up to the building, Eames paid the fare and got out, looking up at the old style chateau, the Gothic towers reaching towards the clear sky. The fountains were going that afternoon, and bicyclists passing him by as he approached the main doors, flanked by statues of Art and Science. As he entered, he felt himself frozen in place as he saw Arthur. His Arthur - wearing a charcoal gray pin striped suit with matching waistcoat, a white oxford and a black tie with white diamond pattern. His hair was combed back as it always was, neat and tidy, and he lit up when he saw Eames.

He walked over to him and as he did, Eames noticed he held a clear plastic container in his hand. He had Eames hold the box as he opened it and removed a white orchid from within, small and meant to pin to a lapel. Eames smiled as he watched him and a little color pooled in Arthur’s face.

“Just a little tradition. No sense in ruling everything out right?”

“Of course.”

When Arthur was finished, Eames gave him the container and took out the remaining boutonniere. He removed the long pin with white head as he gently took Arthur’s lapel and pressed the flower to it, carefully piercing the pin through to keep it in place. When he was done, Arthur looked down at it and then took Eames’ hand, pausing to throw away the container before heading to the judge’s chamber.  
Eames swallowed hard as they stood before the judge that was presiding over the ceremony. They had already signed the license, their witness being a secretary who just happened to be passing by and now, he was getting married.

He had never seen himself here, with someone like Arthur. Oh, sure a marriage done by an alcohol-fueled night and later forgotten since it would have been done under an assumed name, but never something serious. He never figured himself the marrying type - he never figured Arthur being the marrying type either, and he never thought that Arthur would love him as he loved Arthur. It was as if Arthur was having the same thoughts as they both squeezed each other’s hands simultaneously, Arthur’s dimples appearing as Eames gave a nervous laugh.

He thought himself lucky. Eames rarely gambled if he didn’t know he could win by a sure thing or by a con but with Arthur...he went in blind and rolled the dice anyway, holding his breath and hoping for the best.

When the judge asked if there would be an exchange of rings, Eames was going to say no, for he had given Arthur his ring already, but Arthur nodded as he let go of Eames’ hands to reach into his inner coat pocket and withdraw a Tiffany blue velvet bag. Eames looked at him, giving a small chuckle.

“You minx.”

Arthur only smiled as he opened the box and took the band out of its holder, the platinum band with Roman numerals all around it slid easily over Eames’ ring finger. Arthur then grasped his hands again as the judge continued. When he pronounced them married, they stepped closer to each other and Eames cupped his face, kissing him softly as Arthur’s hands rested on Eames' shoulders.

It was the best moment of his life, not counting when Arthur told him he loved him.

The moment was only made better when he realized that Arthur had taken on his surname.

 

+

Eames wanted to celebrate. He wanted to take Arthur out and Arthur was more than willing, but he reminded Eames that it was only the afternoon.

“We have all day to celebrate before we go celebrate, Mr. Eames.”

Eames caught his meaning as he smiled and held him by his waist as he kissed him, feeling Arthur smiling back against his lips.

“Of course you’re right, Mr. Eames.”

They took a cab back to their hotel and Eames felt as if he was floating, his hand never leaving Arthur’s.

When they were alone again, their room now their honeymoon suite, they began to undress. All the care they put into their appearence earlier was now gone as suit coats were cast aside, nooses from ties pulled apart, shirts untucked. Arthur paused long enough to undo his waistcoat and toss it to the side and then immediately returned to Eames, kissing him hard and deep, Eames helping him undress the rest of the way as they toed off their shoes and made their way to the bed.

As Eames felt the bed at the back of his knee, he held Arthur’s hips and lifted him up, feeling his legs wrap around his waist. When Eames sat down he turned Arthur so he would be sitting. Eames moved back and helped pull off Arthur’s dress socks, the right followed by the left, before he eased his suit pants down his slender legs and let them fall to the floor. Arthur returned the favor, helping Eames out of the rest of his clothes and pulled him on the bed, making the other man lay on top of him.

It was a manuvering act to get out of their underwear, the last barrier from feeling naked skin against naked skin, but it was worth it as Eames sucked a soft mark against Arthur’s throat, feeling his pulse under his lips and his heavier breathing as he tilted his head away, letting Eames mark him. Eames pulled back slightly, reaching over to the nightstand where they left the lube and condoms. As he went to grab both, wanting to have everything close at hand for when they were ready, Arthur looked at the condoms before taking them from Eames’ hand and throwing them off the bed. He looked back at Eames, kissing him softly as he murmured,

“We don’t need those anymore…”

It was something that had not even crossed Eames’ mind before. The new information, the new thought of being inside Arthur, of coming in him with nothing to stop him, made his cock throb as his jaw fell slack. Arthur smiled, kissing his mouth, his chin, his jaw.

“You seem surprised.”

“It’s a lot to digest at once.”

“Well...we’re married now.”

“Yet another perk.”

Arthur laughed softly as he pulled Eames back to him, kissing him again, returning them to the moment.

Eames couldn’t wait - though as impatient as he felt, he didn’t rush through anything either. He took his time to coat his fingers and spread Arthur apart, easing his hole apart, preparing him. He might have even taken too long as Arthur grew impatient himself and gasped out,

“Enough...come on…”

Eames moved his hand back and grabbed his cock, easing it into his husband and moaning loudly as his body shook at the feeling of nothing between him and Arthur. He could see it in Arthur’s face too, his mouth falling open as his thighs trembled, his hands clutching at the sheets beneath him.

As he pushed forward, he groaned, his eyes rolling up as he thought - fucking perfect. The heat, the pressure, the tightness enveloping him and swallowing him up and he wondered why he didn’t think of this sooner, why didn’t he think of this himself? Once to the hilt, he looked down at their union - no latex between them - as he withdrew back just slightly before driving forward into Arthur again.  
             Eames kept going, again and again, his senses going into overdrive as his hands held Arthur’s perfect hips, thumbs pressing into his sweat slicked flesh. Arthur raised his hips, pushing back onto his husband’s dick, bringing his arms up overhead as he arched his back, moaning loudly, drawing his knees up so they were pressed against Eames’ sides. He planted his feet on the mattress as he reached down to Eames’ wrists, holding onto him while he watched Eames, taking in the concentration on Eames’ face.

Eames pushed in as deep as he could, moving his hands from Arthur's hips to the bed, crawling over and laying down upon him, pinning Arthur's hips to the bed and rocking against him hard. Gradually, he eased their pace from fast to something much slower. Arthur gasped, his mouth searching for Eames’ and when he found it, they kissed hard, tongues touching, teeth finding lips. When Eames pulled back, he left wet, sloppy kisses all over Arthur's jaw and down the line of his throat.

When the torment became too much for the both of them, Eames sat back up and drove back into Arthur hard, rolling his hips before thrusting forward - pulling loud, delicious sounds from Arthur.  
         It was much better than Eames could have ever hoped for - he loved the feel of his cock dragging along inside Arthur, inside his _husband_ , where every tense of his muscles could be felt along his bare shaft. When Arthur felt close he pushed himself up, supporting his weight on one arm, the other wrapping around Eames’ neck as he eased himself on Eames’ lap, moaning as he pushed himself deeper onto his husband’s cock, his entire body shuddering as he let out shaky little gasps. Eames held him by his hips with one hand, the other on Arthur’s back as he moaned against his mouth.

“I’m...close…”

“Me too..keep going…” moaned Arthur.

Eames helped him, urging him on his lap, getting up on his knees when he felt Arthur clinging to him, sobbing against his throat as he came against Eames’ stomach. In return, the clench was overwhelming, and Eames’ entire body trembled as he came.

Oh - he thought. The feeling of flooding into Arthur’s body, marking him and having him so thoroughly belong to him.

He held onto Arthur tightly as he dropped them both back onto the bed, the both of them panting for air. Eames picked his head up and kissed Arthur's throat, whispering Arthur’s name, his mouth dry as he cradled him in his embrace.

“Amazing...you’re amazing, darling….”

He heard Arthur’s soft laugh, still weak as he whispered,

“You’re not so bad yourself.”

“This is the best day of my life…”

“Mine too.”

Eames looked at Arthur now, seeing his flushed face, his hair a mess - though he was sure his own was no better - and he sighed, feeling lucky again.

 

+

He woke up sometime later. It was still daylight out and he found himself curled around Arthur. His back was to Arthur, his arms around him, holding him close as his cheek pressed against Arthur's hair. He could feel his legs behind Arthur’s, their feet touching and God they were filthy and disgusting- but still, Eames had never been happier.

He brought his hand off Arthur’s side, bringing his fingers down his arm, hearing him make a soft little noise before he turned to face him. Eames smiled, kissing his husband’s lips and lighting up when Arthur smiled back, dimples appearing.

“Hi.”

“Hi.”

Arthur kept turning, sliding his arm under Eames’ and pressing his face to Eames' throat, his nose against his Adam’s apple as he growled softly. Eames laughed, letting it vibrate through Arthur as he heard him say,

“I can’t believe we’re married.”

“For a few hours now.”  
  
He could feel Arthur smiling against his throat, shifting closer to him as Eames tugged the sheets from around himself and pulled them up over Arthur’s bare shoulder, which was cold from the air conditioning. He kissed Arthur’s forehead as he then asked,

“What should we do tonight? Dinner? Dancing? Overly cliche romantic photos atop the Eiffel Tower?”

He heard that brilliant laugh that he was so in love with before Arthur responded,

“All of the above. I sort of wish we had taken a photo in our suits.”

“We have other chances.”

“But that one has passed.”

He held Arthur close, pressing his palm to his back.

“We’ll make other chances. Tonight, we’ll take a photo at every turn.”

“Ok.”

“And then tomorrow...and every day we’re on our honeymoon.”

“God, we’re on our honeymoon…”

He felt Arthur smiling again and Eames smiled too.


	13. Chapter 13

+

 

Time got away from them faster than Eames ever imagined. He felt as if he had blinked and a year went by; and when he saw Phillipa again she was so much bigger, with golden waves falling around her face as her pretty blue eyes lit up when she saw Eames - as if she knew him from the womb and held as much love for him as Mal did.

He wasn’t special though, she loved Arthur just as much. Just like Mal.

Sometime down the line Arthur and Eames bought a house together in California in the middle of nowhere, an hour from LA and an hour to Mal’s in either direction. It was where they met after jobs instead of Eames' flat in London or Arthur’s luxury condo in LA. In fact, Eames sold his flat - no longer having the need to keep a separate place, and Arthur did the same with his condo.

They continued with work as they always had, now and then meeting up at different cities to spend a few days off together before returning home, or one of them coming straight home if the other didn’t have a job. The arrangement worked well for them because it enabled them to work - sometimes together - and still keep their secret.

Eames hated taking off his ring but he did, only switching ring fingers while Arthur continued to hang it on a chain while they worked. The moment the job was over, their wedding bands went right back in place.

Working along everyone else, watching other people flirt with Arthur and keeping him away often made Eames consumed with jealousy, but he took comfort in knowing that Arthur felt the same - especially when Eames had to work, tailing marks or mingling in social situations where his natural charm lured people right to him. But Eames only had eyes for Arthur and even in the middle of research, he would look up and scan around for Arthur, feeling relief when he would find him.

Time kept slipping away from him.

He didn’t realize he was bordering on two years of marriage without Mal knowing. In fact, it didn’t even cross his mind until he went to visit Mal one day. Now that Phillipa was past a year, Mal felt more comfortable with leaving her with Dom’s parents while she went back to work. Arthur was in Greece with Dom and Eames was at home so he took the time to see his life long friend.

He picked up Phillipa when he walked through the door, her happy squeals echoing in his ears as she clung to him and he leaned down to kiss Mal’s cheek.

“So, how are you love?”

Mal smiled as she closed the door behind him as she said,

“Wonderful. I’ve been working, Pippa’s been a good girl and things have been well. You?”

“The same.”

He distracted himself by kissing Phillipa’s cheek, hearing her giggle as the realization hit him. Nearly two years wed to Arthur and he still hadn’t gotten around to telling her. He felt as if the longer he waited, the worse it would be and it had already been so long.

Arthur was doing no better at telling her either.

The guilt that weighed on him during his visit made feel terrible, made him want to tell Mal because he missed her. He missed the closeness he had with her because all that had been replaced with Arthur.  
There was a hammock in Mal’s backyard, she used it to rock Phillipa to sleep during warm spring and summer days and sometimes she would nod off there herself. That afternoon they both managed to climb in, Phillipa resting on Eames’ chest, his hand smoothing her hair down as she fell asleep. Eames pushed the hammock to rock with one foot still on the ground while Mal crowded beside him. She rested her head on his shoulder as she sighed softly.

“I miss you, Eames.”

“I miss you too. Our schedules conflict more nowadays.”

“The next job, it’ll be the four of us, like before.”

“I miss it when it was just the two of us. I miss your apartment in Paris.”

“It’s still there.”

“It’s not the same without you there, darling. We had some good times there. Lots of wonderful drunken nights and lots of cigarettes smoked.”

“Eames...why did you never try to sleep with me? We were both drunk a lot together...there were lots of opportunities. Am I not your type?”

“Actually, you are the measure of beauty by whom I compare everyone to. I’m just a perfect gentleman.”

Mal laughed her sweet laugh and Eames turned to look at her.

“Really, tell me.”

“I didn’t want to ruin this. I didn’t want to make you like everyone else. You’re better than that.”

Mal looked at him for a moment before leaning down and kissing his cheek and resting her head down again.

“Dom accused me of sleeping with you. Very early in our relationship. He was always so jealous of you. Then with Arthur...God. I never heard the end of that either.”

Eames chuckled and Phillipa turned her head away from the sun and settled again.

“You married the plainest most insecure man. Though at least he gave you a pretty girl. What did you tell him when he accused you?”

“I told him he was stupid.”

Eames smiled as he continued rocking them, petting Phillipa as she napped.

“So when are we having another?”

Mal laughed again.

+

  
The year had gone by and Eames found himself taking less and less jobs. He didn’t really miss the work - he missed Arthur more, so when his husband went off somewhere and Arthur told him he was almost done, Eames would pack up and head over to meet him wherever he happened to be at the time.

Slowly, he eased off taking in as many jobs as he used to - only working with Dom and Mal when Mal called.

He found he rather liked the domestic life too.

Not that he dove head first into it - gardening, recipe making, baking, shopping and coupon clipping. No, he just liked to be home with Arthur, watching movies on the couch, sleeping in and waking up to Arthur’s coffee and - if he has been particularly astounding in bed the night before - breakfast brought to him on a tray. He liked to help Arthur do the laundry, from the separation of the clothes, to the washing, drying and folding. He liked to make dinner for them and he liked to work out now and then, especially when he felt he was getting too paunchy around the middle.  
  
But more than anything else, he loved to wake up and see Arthur sleeping beside him in their bed, the light from the day pouring through and giving his skin a glow as his hair seem to catch the light and turn his hair caramel. Those days were the best for Eames and he knew Arthur was just as happy as he was.

Eames was already used to seeing Arthur with his defenses down, out of his armor, his hair tousled, but in their home when neither one of them had to leave it was completely different and it made Eames fall in love with him all over again. Their house was still always cold so Arthur’s feet where only bare when he was going to bed, his lovely, perfect ass covered by sweats and as always, he wore one of Eames’ t-shirts. Eames was often in his pajama bottoms, sipping tea from one of Arthur’s tall clear mugs and their bed was headquarters. They worked there, had tea there, watched movies and if dinner wasn’t made and take out was ordered, they ate there as well.

The sex never dwindled either.

When they first moved into their new home, they christened every room which at the time was empty of furniture with the exception of boxes. The first few nights as they waited for their bed to be delivered, they slept on piles of blankets and sleeping bags and still made love madly.

There were pictures framed - tasteful, elegant photos of them, of Mal, of Phillipa - all around the house. It was a promise Eames had kept since Paris and at key moments, precious occassions, there was a photograph involved.

Yes, the domestic life suited Eames well and he loathed when Arthur had to leave his side.

+

It was late in the year, the fall settling when Eames went to visit Mal.

By the time Eames got there, Mal was standing outside waiting for him. She wore jeans and knee high boots with a sweater and when Eames’ pulled up, Mal rushed to the car door and opened it, getting in as she snapped her seatbelt and looked at him.

“Come on. We need to go somewhere.”

She hadn’t even questioned the car he was driving so he didn’t question her need to leave.

He didn’t say anything, just glanced at her for a moment as she was staring out the window as the scenery passed them by. He took her to a park where he cut the engine and waited as he looked at her.

“So? What’s going on?”

Mal turned to him then, her eyes suddenly glassy before she started to cry. He feared the worse for a moment and undid his seatbelt as he reached over to her, holding her as he pet her hair.

“Mal, darling what’s wrong?”

She pulled away, bringing her hands to her face to wipe her tears away in annoyance as she huffed.

“I’m pregnant.”

“Oh…”

Another tear rolled down her face as she said,

“This is the worse thing...Pippa is two and a half, she’s getting bigger and now...now this. I wanted to keep working and now I can’t.”

“Does Dom know?”

She shook her head, rubbing her face when more tears rolled down her cheeks.

“I haven’t told him yet. I wanted to talk to you and Arthur first.”

“Did you talk to Arthur?”

“I called him when I was waiting for you.”

“What did he say?”

“He told me not to tell Dom if I decided not to have this baby but if I did that it would be like before, I would have support.”

“He’s right, duck. I would be here for you. Whatever you decide.”

“It’s just...so soon. I wanted to wait a little longer before having another baby.”

She was frustrated with herself, pulling her hair back from her face and crying from anger.

“Mal….you don’t have to have this baby if you don’t want to.”

“I do...but the timing is just so off. I’m so frustrated.”

“They won’t stay little forever, you know that.”

She sobbed as she brought her hands to her mouth and looking down as she then looked at Eames again.

“I feel like the worse mother. I do love my girl and I already love this baby...I’m just frustrated by this timing.”

“I know dearest.”

They were quiet for a while, Mal just leaning back against the seat, holding Eames’ hand as she looked out the window. After about an hour, Mal turned to him, tears still fresh in her eyes as she said,

“It should have been yours.”

“Let’s tell everyone it is.”

She finally laughed as she held his hand tightly.

“Thank you for this.”

He nodded and she looked at their hands and saw his wedding band. He had switched it over so it wasn’t on his wedding ring finger but she noticed it and it made him a little nervous.

“This is nice. When did you start wearing it?”

“A while ago.”

She nodded and sighed deeply.

“Back to nine months of being on the side lines.”

“I’ll sit out with you.”

She laughed in a self-deprecating matter as she said,

“You? Doesn’t the whole world belong to you?”

“I can afford to sit out for a while. I didn’t do it last time with Pippa...and knowing how bad it was for you to be left behind, I can’t do it to you again. What kind of friend would I be if I did?”

She smiled warmly at him.

“You would do that for me?”

“I would. I love you, Mal.”

“I love you too, Eames.”

“Besides, how else would anyone believe that baby is mine if I’m not with you?”

Mal laughed again.


	14. Chapter 14

+

So Eames stayed behind with Mal.

The reasoning for him visiting more often were now covered and he told Mal he rented a house not too far from her. When he told Arthur, he understood but couldn’t tolerate the idea of being so busy while Eames was home so he began to taper off and not take as many jobs.

Dom was excited for the second child and decided they needed more room so they moved to a bigger house, their new home only a little further away. They moved while Mal was still not showing and Eames helped - though Dom wasn’t happy about it.

Between Arthur and Eames, they alternated seeing Mal, checking in on her frequently so she wouldn’t feel alone. When Arthur did take a job, Eames would go see her and spend hours with her and Phillipa.

While Mal was pregnant and there were nine months of free time to look forward to, Eames really enjoyed the domestic life. He loved those months and considered them the best of his marriage. With nothing to deter their time apart, Eames romanced his spouse, randomly bringing home flowers, putting more effort into a more elaborate dinner, and even doing little things like cleaning the house and waking up just a bit earlier to make coffee and breakfast. Arthur happily returned the favors, massaging Eames’ back when he came back from his work out, making Eames tea just the way he liked it and indulging his sweet tooth by baking.

Indulging Eames was a lot of what happened during that time - spending long, long hours making love in the armchair in their living room, bringing each other close only to stop and pull back before resuming. It was a delicious ache that Eames adored, feeling that fine line between pain and pleasure lacerate through him as he felt Arthur on his lap, rocking back and forth slowly, Eames’ large hands on Arthur’s damp lower back as Arthur held an arm around his neck, the other on Eames’ thigh for support. It sometimes became a competition between them - to see who would beg for release first and the most. More often than not, it would be Eames who tapped out first, but when Arthur did it would always be wonderful to see his face, his eyes screwed up tightly, his mouth falling open as he sobbed, feeling Eames’ hands pressed against his back, bruises already surfacing on his thighs, sweat lining his brow as he begged to come, pleading his husband to let him.

There would be the mornings where Eames would wake up and pad to the kitchen, sleep still clinging to his eyes and before he got to even eat, he would be led to a chair and Arthur would blow him, ripping sleep away from his mind. Moaning loudly, he would grasp handfuls of Arthur’s hair before Arthur moved away and got on his lap, shedding his pajamas along the way and riding Eames on the chair - hard enough to make the chair skid slightly away from the table as he held Eames’ still scruffy face and kissed him hard and deep.

Then there were the few weeks that Arthur did take a job, and Eames would miss him desperately. And when Arthur came back, all Eames wanted to do was press his mouth against every inch of his skin. He'd help Arthur undress as he laid him on the bed, undoing Arthur's oxford and spreading it apart, laying his hands on Arthur's torso, his fingers brushing over his nipples and feeling them harden under his touch. Arthur would moan, arching his back up to Eames' touch, rubbing his tenting erection against Eames’. Afterwards, as they recovered, Arthur would tease him and tell him he should leave more often.

There would be the mornings of being woken up by Arthur touching his arm, walking his shapely fingers up and over his forearm, up his bicep, to his shoulder and across his chest. It was a soft, subtle tickle and some days, Arthur could make the walk across and back, others he wouldn’t even reach Eames’ shoulder.

Eames couldn’t say they didn’t have their disagreements, their arguments, their fights that made them not speak for hours or days in some cases - but they were few and far between, and Eames loved that when Arthur was in the wrong he would admit it, so Eames did the same.

They were good months. And there were many days when Eames would wake up and think to himself just how lucky he was.

 

+

The day Mal went into labor, Eames was there. Dom had stepped out to meet a contact for a future job and Mal’s actual due date wasn’t for a few more days but suddenly as they sat in the kitchen having tea, Phillipa on Eames’ lap as he shared some of the biscuit he had, Mal gasped and looked down. Eames looked down with her - seeing a puddle at her bare feet, her red dress now marked with a darker patch as Phillipa said,

“Momma wet.”

Eames laughed a little as he said,

“Yes, she is. Come along duck, we have to go.”

He stood up, Mal holding her stomach as she said,

“Oh God...Dom’s out...I don’t know when he’ll be back…”

“I’ll call him, love. You just stayed relaxed.”

Eames kept his mind clear as he helped Phillipa into her sandals and then scooped her up as he grabbed his keys and then went to Mal’s bedroom where her overnight bag was packed and ready near her closet. He slung it over his shoulder as he went back for Mal, seeing her standing and waddling towards the door. He opened the door for her as he helped her to the car and then put Phillipa in the backseat along with the bag before he took off to the hospital.

He left several messages and texts on Dom’s phone before calling Arthur, who was immediately on his way. Eames stayed in the waiting room with Phillipa, keeping her entertained until Arthur, and then Dom, arrived. Dom was frantic and panicked, scared he had missed the birth of his son but once he got in, he realized he hadn’t. Arthur sat down with Eames in the waiting room, taking Phillipa as she squealed and latched onto him next.

“How long have you been here?”

Eames looked at his husband and smiled as Phillipa tugged on his button down, reaching in to wrap her little fingers around the chain with no ring there. He had to look at Arthur’s hand to see his wedding band still in place.

“Just about an hour and a half. I was with Mal when her water broke.”

Arthur nodded as he bounced Phillipa on his lap and she giggled loudly.

“You left your ring on.”

Arthur stopped for a moment and looked down at his hand as he said,

“Oh...I didn’t even think about it.”

Eames just took his hand and held onto it.

  
Mal was in labor for hours and when James was finally born, Phillipa had fallen asleep on Arthur. Her head rested on his shoulder, her arms hanging down as he leaned back in the chair holding her. Eames was still awake, though tired and bored by now. It only served to remind him of when Phillipa was born and how he, in a sleep deprived stupor, had proposed to his now husband.

They went to see James and Mal when they were permitted, bringing Philipa back to her parents. The little girl ran to her mother, clamoring on the bed as Dom thanked them for taking care of her. Mal was asleep but woke up when she heard her daughter and smiled as she sat beside her, holding her hand. She yawned and Dom asked Arthur if he wanted to see James.

Only Arthur.

Eames ignored Dom as he picked up Phillipa and sat down with her. Instead, he looked at Mal.

“Hello, Mallorie.”

She smiled again, putting her hand on his arm as she said,

“Hi. How are you?”

“I’m fine. How are you?”

“Exhausted.”

“And still, you’ve never looked more beautiful.”

Phillipa agreed as Mal gave a soft laugh. She then looked at her daughter, then back at Eames as she asked,

“Did you see James?”

“Your husband doesn’t want me to see him.”

Mal frowned as she said,

“What?”

Eames shook his head as he pet her hand.

“Don’t worry about it now, pet. Relax.”

She argued a bit more but Eames shushed her and made her sleep before Dom and Arthur came back from seeing James.

 

+

It was not too long after James was born that things started to change ever so slightly.

Not in his domestic life, but with Arthur himself.

He seemed bored on some days and would go to see Mal more, though that was something Eames said he would do.

He wanted to know why Arthur seemed restless, bored as if their honeymoon phase was suddenly very much over.

It rained the night Arthur came back from a visit, saying hi to Eames as he took off his coat and settled in the house. Eames continued to make dinner and he felt worry as he wondered what was happening to his husband.

As they had dinner, Arthur said,

“Mal’s ready to go back in the field.”

Eames nodded.

“Yeah, she mentioned that before.”

“We could go back to work then.”

“You say it as if you’ve been sidelined.”

“Haven’t I?”

Eames looked at him, confused as he set his fork down on the plate.

“No. I didn’t make you stay during Mal’s pregnancy. You chose to.”

“You said you missed me when I was gone.”

“I did but that didn’t mean you had to stay against your will.”

As soon as the words left his mouth, the terrible realization of holding Arthur against his will reared its head.

“Did you stay against your will?”

Arthur said nothing, just kept eating his dinner. Eames shook his head, thinking all this time, he had been so blissfully, blindly happy and Arthur…

He stood up taking his plate to the sink and then left the kitchen.

  
        The fight that followed was disastrous and the fallout even worse.

They fought over Arthur staying when he didn’t want to, about how Eames never made him stay despite missing him. Arthur said he felt obligated to stay, pressured to and it made Eames feel horrible.

“I never pressured you to stay.”

“How could I go with you giving me the sad face when I told you I took a job? Or when you would tell me how much you wished I was home when I was working? What am I supposed to think?”

“I was just telling you that out of love, not to make you stay with me! I never once told you stay, I don’t want you to leave! It’s not my fault you took it wrong, Arthur!”

Arthur sighed in annoyance and Eames felt his marriage shifting.

“Do you want to be here at all?”

“What?”

“Do you want to be here, in this house, in this marriage?”

Arthur stayed quiet again and Eames felt the blow come across him as if he was physically hit.

“Why? Why did you do this to me?! If you felt this way, why did just let me go on believing that you were happy?!”

He shouted and Arthur looked down and then back up at him.

“I am happy. I just feel trapped right here...I can’t not work. But I can’t feel guilty every time I leave for a separate job.”

“I’m not making you stay!”

“Calm down, Eames.”

“How can I be calm when I’m finding out that the love of my life is feeling trapped?”

“You’re taking this completely wrong.”

Eames scoffed bringing his hand to his eyes as he shook his head.

“There’s no other way to take this. You don’t want to stay here and I’m not going to make you stay anymore.”

Eames took a step back and headed to their bedroom, where he took his luggage and began to pack. He packed quickly, grabbing whatever was close and then closed his bag. He grabbed his wallet and phone and as he left the room he noticed Arthur was still standing in the living room.

“Where are you going?”

Eames stopped and looked at his spouse, the love of his life, someone he had fought so hard for and now felt as if it had all been for nothing.

“I think it would be best to separate for a while. You clearly need your space and I guess I should give it to you.”

Arthur walked over to him as he spoke.

“Eames, don’t leave. You’re overreacting.”

“Probably. But I don’t want you to stay here if this is just the start of whatever you’re feeling. If I stay and you continue to feel obligated to not work, this marriage is going to fall apart. We need the space.”

Arthur didn’t argue and that was enough for Eames as he turned and left.


	15. Chapter 15

+

It was always hot in Mombasa, but when Eames arrived it was the rainy season. He sighed deeply to himself in the cab that took him to Yusuf’s residence, and when he showed up unannounced, Yusuf just sighed, shaking his head as he let Eames in.

“You always do this.”

“One day I’ll stop.”

Yusuf rolled his eyes but let him in anyway, closing the door behind his friend and showing him to the guest room.

He left Eames alone for a few days, letting him sleep off whatever was bothering him. When Eames was ready, he sat at Yusuf’s kitchen table with a cold beer in his hand - Yusuf’s ceiling fan spinning quickly and making a constant clicking sound with every rotation - glowering at his beer bottle.

“So? Are you going to tell me what brought you to my doorstep in the middle of the night?”

Eames took another swig from the bottle before he sighed deeply and said,

“I’m on the brink of divorce.”

Yusuf sat quietly, stunned but quiet. He let Eames go on at his own pace.

“I got married.”

“How long? To who?”

“Just about three years. To...to Arthur.”

He looked up just to see Yusuf’s shocked face, his eyes wide as his mouth fell open.

“Eames…”

“I know. It wasn’t meant for anyone to know. Anyway...he said I made him feel trapped but that I didn’t have to leave and I knew it was some underlying problem...so before it got worse I let him have his space. At least...this way when he serves me divorce papers, he can’t say I didn’t let him think or forced him to stay with me out of obligation.”

Yusuf was silent choosing his words carefully before he sighed deeply and opened his mouth.

“Mate, I’m so sorry. Having a marriage fall apart is never easy.”

“I love him, you know? More than anything in the world...and in turn I just smothered him.”

“You didn’t smother him. You’re giving him space. This might be just what you need.”

Eames just took another swig of his beer.

+

The hardest thing he had to do afterwards was call Mal and tell her he wasn’t around anymore. He told her he had taken a job, but it was a big one so he wasn’t sure how long he would away. She started to cry, which disarmed him greatly. Gently, he asked,

“Mal, why are you crying?”

“This is the worse timing. Arthur is busy with Dom and I’m not quite ready to go back in the field so I’m lonely and now you’ve left.”

“What are Dom and Arthur planning?”

He thought for a moment, confusion etched in his face. It had only been a few days since he left.

“A job...I don’t know any details. Arthur came over and said he needed a job and Dom always has something on the backburner so he and Arthur are just pouring over plans and research.”

“Well, I’m sorry Mal. I’ve been out of the field for a while and I need this.”

She sighed deeply, sniffling slightly as she said,

“Can I tell you something and you won’t judge me?”

“Of course, darling.”

“I love my children. But I wish I didn’t have to take care of them right now.”

“I know, love. But it’s just a few more weeks. You’ll be working again soon. Then this will be a bad memory. A rough patch.”

“I know. Promise to check in with me?”

“Of course.”

  
Time slipped away from him again. Only now he had nothing but blurred days behind him and the misery of wondering if his marriage was over.

He had tossed his phone when he left California and took off his wedding band, stashing it among his things - just in case.

He took jobs with Yusuf and spent many days gambling, sitting in bars and pick pocketing the locals to keep his game sharp. When he found the will to, he ventured out of Mombasa and did jobs abroad to keep his mind busy and re-establish his reputation among the dreamshare community.

He worked and did his best to keep in touch with Mal, but days would turn into weeks and weeks into months and his contact with Mal dwindled down to almost nothing. He realized it was because he couldn’t stand to listen to her even mention Arthur; how he was working, how he seemed fine with clearly no change and how they worked together constantly. She would ask Eames when he was coming back, when he could work with them again, and he would always say he didn’t know.

+

It killed him to believe his marriage was over.

Arthur had made no effort in contacting him, to let him know where they stood one way or another. The silence on Arthur’s part made Eames believe that it was exactly what Arthur wanted - not just his space, but their separation as well.

By the end of the time he reached a full year out of California, away from his now estranged husband and his closest friend, he had no hope of them ever reconciling.

His only comfort was that now, he had no secrets to keep from Mal.

+

Eames had decided to stay in Mombasa. Traveling in and out when he had to, he had his own flat near Yusuf’s - his silence with both Mal and Arthur had been just as long.

He settled into an entirely different life, a different look - having put on more muscle, a few more tattoos. The rain season was still a few months away and it was hot and humid. Eames was in his flat, smoking a cigar, scrolling through his laptop as he sat in his boxer briefs, far too hot for anything else.

Around now, Phillipa was four, James was two and he had not heard from Mal in about six months...possibly more. He briefly thought about calling her then, but a glance at his laptop clock and an estimate in the time difference made him think he should call the next day. He was just about to call it a night, moving back from the table as he left his cigar on the ashtray near his arm and then stretched, hearing his shoulder pop softly - when he heard a tapping at his front door.

There was a distant roll of thunder in the background and he thought it was that at first until he heard it again. He stood up and went to the door, pausing for a moment as he heard,

“Eames...it’s me.”

A voice he hadn’t heard in a year. He opened it slowly and saw Arthur standing there. He wore a suit despite the heat, though it looked like he had slept in it. His usually pristine hair was messy and he looked as if he had not slept in days. Eames held the door knob in his hand as he blocked the doorway and leaned against the frame.

“Well...if it isn’t Arthur Levine. It’s been a while.”

There was hurt that flashed across Arthur's face for a moment for being addressed by his former last name but it went away as he said,

“I have to talk to you.”

“Now is not a good time.”

He began to close the door but Arthur stopped him, pressing his hand against it as he said,

“This isn’t about us right now.”

“Then what is it?”

His voice was harsh and he really didn’t want to dawdle on his past anymore. Just looking at Arthur hurt and dredged up feelings of what felt like another lifetime.

“Mal’s dead.”

He froze in place, the shock of the words making his knees shake.

“What?”

“She’s dead…”

He moved away from the door as Arthur stepped in and closed the door behind him as Eames sat down on the arm of his couch. The words hung in his mind, circling as he tried to process the idea of Mal not being alive anymore. He looked at Arthur as he said,

“How?”

“She...she jumped from a hotel room window.”

Arthur brought his hand over his mouth and turned away, the pain making itself new again as Eames shook his head.

“She jumped? But...she was fine. She wouldn’t do that.”

But seeing Arthur standing in front of him in his rumpled black suit, biting back the agony of his closest friend’s death, he knew she had.

Mal had jumped. Mal was dead.

He would never see her bright blue eyes sparkle at him, see her vivid smile, see her dark brown hair falling over her shoulders and frame her face. He would never hear the laugh he had fallen in love with and they would never have cigarettes together on her terrace in her apartment in Paris, the very place he was so homesick for.

Tears pricked at his eyes as he felt the weight of the news, and his heart constricted as he felt the heartbreak of Mal’s death.

He hadn’t spoken to her in months - avoiding doing so in fact and he softly gasped her name behind his hand.

“Mal…”

He felt Arthur’s embrace suddenly around him, the scent Eames was so familiar with surrounded him and he couldn’t resist, he was too weak to pull back as he brought his arms around Arthur, hanging onto him tightly. He clenched his eyes against Arthur and mourned Mal.

+

Eames wasn’t sure how long he sat there and held onto Arthur but his head hurt when he pulled away. He felt Arthur’s hand coming up to his face, smoothing his fingers under his eye, and when he looked up he saw Arthur's flushed face, his eyes still glassy, as he looked back at Eames.

Arthur was all he had left now. His haven, his secret, his sanctuary - the only home he had left.

He wanted to say so much to him, wanted to tell him how he missed him, how he still loved him, would probably always love him and despite the hurt and the anger he had been carrying the past year, he was ready to set it all aside if Arthur would take him back.

But he didn’t. He stood up, shutting off the lights in his flat before taking Arthur by his hand and leading him towards his bedroom. He thought - ‘he might resist and if he does, I’ll let him go’ - but instead, he felt Arthur follow, his fingers tightening around Eames’ as he let himself follow his estranged husband.

+

He undressed Arthur as he had a million times before, the darkness of his flat not deterring him. He knew every inch of Arthur - every angle, every bit of skin, every scar, every freckle, every birthmark. And still, he undressed him as nervously as he had the first time, his hands shaking, his mind still processing the agony of his life long friend being dead and how he needed to hide. He needed to hide in Arthur, as he always had.

When Mal married Dom and Eames knew things would change and never be the same again so, he sought refuge in Arthur, pressing him against a door as he explored his mouth. When Mal gave birth to Phillipa and she was even further away than before, he asked Arthur to be with him forever, because Mal had cast him out.   
Now was no different. Mal was gone forever, where Eames couldn’t reach her, couldn’t talk to her, couldn’t touch her anymore. She had truly taken away his sanctuary and now he had no one but Arthur and he wasn’t even sure if Arthur would have him.

As he pushed off Arthur’s ruined and wrinkled shirt off his shoulders, there - around his neck was the silver chain that held his wedding ring. He wasn’t sure if Arthur still wore it when he wasn’t working or if it just hung there since their separation but seeing it made him feel guilty that he didn’t even have his ring on his person.

He undid his pants and helped Arthur out of them, pulling him closer when Arthur stepped out of them. He kissed his throat, his jaw line and he lapped at the taste of his skin, having missed him so much. Eames whispered his name against his throat as Arthur brought his arms around his shoulders, hearing him make a startled little noise when he realized Eames was a lot bigger than before. They kissed again, Eames swallowing up the soft little noises and moans Arthur made, chasing his tongue as they both opened their mouths. When he pulled back, he kissed the corners of Arthur’s lips, his jaw, his cheek and memories unbidden came crashing through his mind - remembering when he last did that to Arthur, hearing him sigh softly as he whimpered his name.

“Eames…”

His grip on Arthur tightened, pulling him closer as he slid his hands down to his ass. Gripping Arthur through his briefs, Eames squeezed him then hooked his fingers onto the waistband and tugged them down, feeling Arthur help before they got on Eames’ bed.

He felt Arthur’s hands on him, making Eames get out of his own underwear before turning them over so Arthur would be underneath. Eames leaned down to his chest, sucking a bruise on his skin, hearing Arthur make a soft little whimper, his back arching towards his mouth as his fingers ran through Eames’ longer hair.

His mouth traveled down Arthur’s body; his tongue licked at Arthur, taking in the very taste of him as he touched him everywhere, hearing him moan and gasp as he spread his thighs open as much as he could, letting Eames suck and bite bruises against his legs, red marks appearing from Eames’ stubble. With one soft, languid lick to remind himself of what he had not had in a year, Eames sat up, wiping off the back of his mouth.

He hadn’t wanted to say much, but he knew he had to say something.

“I don’t have any condoms.”

He feared Arthur’s reply, wondering if someone else had warmed his bed, even if it was just once, even if it had been to stave off the loneliness. But Arthur only touched his wrist, pulling him back over, devouring his mouth in a wet, deep kiss before moving back.

“There’s been no one else.”

Eames felt ashamed - ashamed he would ever doubt Arthur’s fidelity, ashamed that Arthur still knew him far better than he ever imagined. He kissed him again and again, stealing his breath and leaving Arthur shaking as he whispered,

“I’m sorry…”

Arthur only nodded, forgiving him right away.

Eames lubed his fingers and slid them in, feeling how tight and hot Arthur was. After spreading Arthur open, he positioned himself and slowly eased inside. Arthur gasped as Eames stayed silent but he felt his mouth drop, his eyes closed as he felt his husband again after so long. It was a slow, easy glide in and Arthur clenched around him, his chest heaving as he panted, his hands on Eames’ arms, fingers barely making it around his biceps. Eames wanted to savor that moment as he drew in then back out, again and again, drinking in Arthur’s delicious little pants, the desperate way he looked at him, wanting him as much as Eames wanted him.

He had missed Arthur. Every second of every day - which is why he clung madly to his anger, wanting to stay miserable because if he was miserable, he wouldn’t be heartbroken. He moved a little faster now, leaning closer to Arthur, licking at his mouth, feeling Arthur sucking on his bottom lip as he held Eames close to him, bringing his arms around his neck, pressing his fingers to the nape of his neck, gripping his hair tightly as he whined against Eames’ mouth.

There was still so much he wanted to say, but the arguments and fights felt so far away, and all he wanted to do was tell Arthur how much he loved him. How madly in love he still was, and that he would do everything in his power to never make Arthur feel trapped again.

He didn’t want to lose him too. He couldn’t tolerate the idea of Arthur no longer being in his life.

Eames kept going, moving faster, driving in deeper until every muscle in Eames’ body was burning in a pleasurable ache, each thrust into Arthur was like coming home and as he rested his weight on one arm, he slipped his hand between them, finding Arthur’s lovely cock as he wrapped his fingers around it and moved his hand, hearing a wrecked sob leaving his husband’s mouth as he clenched tightly around Eames - the only warning he got - as he came all over his hand.

Eames slowed down and moved his hand back, then looked at Arthur, seeing his flushed face and his eyes closed as tears rolled down his face. He was still panting for air as Eames leaned down, kissing him, knowing what he was feeling as he resumed his pace and kept going until he came too. And when he came...Eames felt as if he couldn’t breath, his mind blissfully blank for a moment, his entire body shaking and when he came back to his senses, he felt Arthur kissing his face, his neck as he made soft little strained noises.

He never wanted to leave him, never wanted to leave the bed with him but he had to if not for the single reason of not wanting to crush Arthur. He slowly pulled out and laid beside him, grasping his hand, feeling delighted as Arthur held his hand weakly in return. He was glad he had left his ceiling fan on so he didn’t have to get up and he only reached over to pull the flimsy sheet on his bed over Arthur, then over himself. He wasn’t sure if Arthur wanted space so he stayed where he was, on his back, wanting to sleep so he wouldn’t think anymore when he felt Arthur inching over to him, putting his arm over his chest and resting his head on his shoulder. Eames brought his hand up and held onto Arthur’s arm, turning his head slightly and kissing his hair.

By the time he settled back to get comfortable, Arthur was already asleep.


	16. Chapter 16

+

Eames half expected to wake up alone the next morning. But when he opened his eyes, he saw Arthur was still asleep beside him. He was deeply asleep - undisturbed, profound, restful sleep. Eames wondered if he had slept at all in the past year. He knew he himself couldn’t without complete exhaustion and sometimes a few minutes with the PASIV on an especially bad night.   
It was warm, and getting warmer in his room by the moment, but Eames couldn’t resist getting closer to Arthur anyway to kiss his brow and smooth back his hair. He missed his husband, and seeing Arthur still wearing his wedding band on a chain around his neck caused his heart to beat faster as he remembered things that once were. He sighed softly to himself, wanting so much...but he still needed Arthur to tell him what he wanted.

After a few minutes, Arthur woke up and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. He looked at Eames and smiled softly, though not enough for his dimples to show up.

“Good morning.”

“Good morning. Do you want some coffee?”

Arthur shook his head as he slowly got up from bed instead and started getting dressed.

“You’re leaving?”

As soon as Arthur got his briefs on, he turned back to Eames and sat back down on the bed.

“I have to help Dom.”

Eames nodded and looked down for a moment.

“Why didn’t you tell me about Mal sooner?”

“It happened fast. We couldn’t even attend to her funeral...Dom was accused of her death.”

“But you said it was a suicide.”

“Mal...she set Dom up. She made it seem as if he killed her. So Dom had to run. Phillipa and James are with Mal’s parents now...he’s running and I’m going with him.”

Eames shook his head, looking down at his hands, then back up at Arthur.

“What about us?”

“This isn’t about us right now.”

“Then why did you come here?”

“To let you know about Mal! She was your friend too so you deserved to know personally, not through a phone call or a letter!”

“Then why did you fuck me? Was that because I was deserving of that too?”

Arthur got up from the bed, getting his pants on before pulling on his shirt. Eames sighed and got out of bed too, getting his boxer briefs on as Arthur suddenly turned to him and said,

“You...I can’t even believe you would say that to me.”

Eames stayed quiet this time and Arthur finished getting dressed. When he was almost done, Eames was sitting on his bed, listening to the click of the overhead fan and to the rustling of Arthur’s clothes and when only the clicking was left, Eames looked up and saw Arthur was done and standing in the center of his room, looking at him.  
        Eames stood up but didn’t move any further as he sighed and started to raise his hand, about to say something but he had no idea what else to say. Arthur had clearly made up his mind - follow Dom and help him clear his name, however long that may take.

“You’re leaving.”

“It's my turn now, I guess.”

It was an obvious stab and Eames felt it.

“At least I left for a reason, I didn’t throw my marriage away.”

“I’m not throwing-”

He stopped himself, looking down as he collected himself, pulling his anger back in as he looked back up at Eames.

“I told you already. Now is not about us.”

“When will it be then, hm? You left me in the dark for a year and now, when you come back to deliver the worse news of my life and I think maybe there’s some hope, you’re just here to drop this on me and leave. What did I tell you when you came back to me before, Arthur? What did I say after Prague? Do not leave me in the dark again.”

“I’m not leaving you in the dark. I’m telling you what’s happening.”

“No you’re not! You won’t tell me where we stand!”

“I can’t think about us right now! Mal is dead and my closest friend is running for his life so he doesn’t lose his children!”

Eames brought his hands to his face in frustration; he knew Arthur was right but the emotional part of his brain kept telling him Arthur was wrong. He pressed the heels of his palms into his eyes as he growled, angry and miserable and feeling like last night didn’t even happen.

Arthur began to leave and Eames didn’t hear him until the sound of his bedroom door hitting the wall behind it smacked against it and only then did he move. He ran out behind Arthur and just as he reached the door, he caught his wrist and Arthur turned, stopping and looking at him.

_Stay. Stay, don’t leave me again. I miss you. I love you. Please stay. Stay, stay, stay_ \- his mind supplied. Eames could only look at him once he caught him and Arthur stayed quiet too.

He sighed deeply and Arthur broke the grip between them as he stepped closer to Eames and wrapped his arms around his neck. Eames held him, his fingers gripping against Arthur’s wrinkled shirt as he turned his head and felt Arthur’s tousled, messy hair against his mouth. He heard Arthur sigh softly, his breath warm against his neck. When Arthur moved his head back, he pressed his cheek to Eames’, then moved back slightly to kiss the corner of his mouth. Eames stayed still, letting him kiss just that little spot - leaving him lingering as Arthur moved away.

Then suddenly, he was gone again and Eames could only feel the ghost of his kiss on the corner of his lips.

  
+

  
He missed Mal more than he could have ever imagined. He thought of her constantly and when he sketched, he drew her. He drew her face, her eyes, her smile, her hair and he heard her laugh in his mind.

He searched through his things at one point, finding an old picture of them together, back when they were still cutting their teeth in forgeries and scams, Mal being so good as a distraction while Eames pulled the con. When he looked at the picture, he didn’t even recognize himself but Mal...Mal looked the same. Her hair was longer then, and she smiled brightly as she held a cigarette in her hand as Eames held her around her tiny waist.

He wished he could have gone to her funeral, to her wake, to see James and Phillipa once more and he held so much regret about it all.

He regretted not keeping contact with her even though Mal had made him promise. He regretted not staying in California - with James and Phillipa to watch them grow up more. He felt he could have helped Mal...why would she jump?   
She did say she was lonely once, but when she was able, she returned right to field and everything seemed fine.  
But more than anything, he regretted not telling Mal about Arthur.

She so much wanted to see them together and when they worked together, Mal would still hint at what an adorable couple they made, how cute they looked together, how...right it all was. She would smile when they spoke together and she would nudge - never push at the idea of them together. She would have loved them together, thrilled they got married and loved their home. But then she would have been heartbroken when it all fell apart.

He could have used her advice when everything was going to hell. She probably could have saved everything.

Eames eventually found his wedding ring, nestled in the velvet bag, synched tight with a knot. He pulled it open and held his ring in his hand, turning it to catch towards the light, rubbing his thumb across the Roman numerals as he caught sight of the engraving inside - their wedding date, followed by ‘love of my life - A’. He slipped it on his right ring finger, not yet ready to place it back on his left one.

He wondered if he would ever hear from Arthur again now that he was on the run and he did his best to keep his ear to the ground - listening out for any news of Dom or Arthur though all he did hear, when he heard anything, was all bad.   
Criminals pulling underhanded jobs, and Eames knew Dom had fallen far.

But still, no word from his estranged husband.

+

  
Months went by.

Each day made no easier by time and he wondered if he would ever feel like himself again.

He sat in a gambling den - far too seedy to be considered anything but a den and not a casino as he pressed his luck, watching the table, rubbing two fingers against his thumb when he heard him.

"Keep rubbing them all you like, they won't breed."

He only had to glance to his side to know it was Dom. His accent stuck out far too much to be anything but American and he knew Arthur's voice far too well.

"You never know."

“Let me get you a drink.”

He placed a chip on thirteen with a tap and lost, but he stood up from the table with the remainder of his chips as he went to cash them.

“You’re buying.”

As he waited for the cashier, Dom followed him and picked up one of his chips as he said,

"I see your spelling hasn't improved."

It had been an oversight, something he did in the middle of the night nursing a broken heart and mourning an old friend. By the time he realized he had misspelled Mombasa, he was several chips in. The house hadn't noticed but motherfucking Dom Cobb would.

"Piss off."

"How's your handwriting?"

Eames could smell his ploy, heard him coming a mile away.

"Versatile."  
  
          Before Eames knew it, he was at a table sitting across from Dominic Cobb. They went back years but damned if the very sight of him didn't want to make him reach across the table and choke him. If one didn't know better - they looked like old friends having a drink.

Dom looked about the same and when he revealed his eyes as he took off his sunglasses, they were tired and worn, the eyes of a man who lived too much in too little time. He was a little more paranoid and finally got some color on another wise boring personality. He wore gray dress pants and a black shirt and coat - Eames recognized the shirt since it was one Mal had bought for him.

Eames himself had let go of most of the older things he had once, discarding most of what Arthur had chosen for him and moving onto second hand, vintage clothing which fit him better now that his frame was larger, looser and breathed better in the Mombasa heat.

He crossed his leg, resting the weight of it on his knee as he took a handful of peanuts and broke them open one by one, quickly but looking down so he wouldn't be struck with the urge to strangle Dom.

"Inception. Now before you bother telling me it's impossible-"

"Oh it's perfectly possible, it's just bloody difficult."

"Interesting. Because Arthur keeps telling me it can't be done."

God, the very mention of his name made the corners of Eames' mouth turn up, unbidden. He couldn't help but still love Arthur despite it all, and just knowing he's still working and well made him just the tiniest bit happy. He gave a little mocking chuckle as he popped a peanut into his mouth.

"Mm...Arthur. You still working with that stick in the mud?"

"He's good at what he does, right?"

"Oh he's the best. But he has no imagination."

"Not like you."

Eames didn't miss that look of disdain on Dom's face as he took a swig of his beer. Eames’ tone instantly changed as he looked up at Dom, bored.

“Listen, if you’re going to perform Inception you need imagination.”

“Let me ask you something...have you done it before?”

He referred back to an old job that made Eames famous among the dreamshare community. It had solidified his reputation as the best, despite his team’s better efforts to succeed and fail only because they had been the first to try. He brought his arm up to the balcony railing, letting it rest there as he said,

“We tried it. We got the idea in place, but it didn’t take.”

“You didn’t plant it deep enough?”

“No, it’s not just about depth. You need the simplest version of the idea in order for it to grow in naturally in your subject’s mind. It’s a very subtle art.”

He paused and then straightened himself up, looking at Dom directly now.

“So what is this idea you need to plant?”

He got to the point now, wanting Dom to be out with it already, to see what this job was that caused him to show up all the way in Mombasa for him. Dom fidgeted before he said,

“We need the heir of a major corporation to dissolve his father’s empire.”

Eames shook his head, intrigued.

“Now you see right there you have various political motivations and anti monopolistic sentiments and so forth but all that stuff that’s...it’s really at the mercy of your subject’s prejudice you see. All you have to do is start at the absolute basic.”

He thought he made himself clear but as usual, Dom, basic - simple Dom who fancied himself a leader didn’t know where he was going with it.

“Which is what?”

Eames resisted the urge to sigh at him in annoyance as he looked away and then back at Dom.

“The relationship with the father.”

Dom looked surprised - as if it had not at all dawned on him and Eames again wondered for the millionth time how he ever caught Mal’s attention. He took a deep breath, looking off to the side. He focused back on the job.

“Do you have a chemist?”

“No, not yet.”

Eames smiled to himself, knowing Yusuf would love this.

“Right. Well ok there’s a man here, Yusuf. He formulates his own versions of the compound.”

“Why don’t you take me there?”

Eames looked away again, having noticed the stranger at the bar a few tables away. Again, leave it to Dom…

“Once you’ve lost your tail. The man at the bar.”

“Cobol Engineering. That price on my head, was that dead or alive?”

“Don’t remember. Let’s see if he starts shooting.”

Eames popped another peanut in his mouth as Dom made a face at him, his lips tightening, annoyed with Eames though he wouldn’t say anything to piss him off right now.

“Run interference. I’ll meet you downstairs at the bar in say...half an hour.”

“Back here?”

He was almost impressed with Dom. Almost.

“It’s the last place they’d suspect.”

Eames chuckled, popping another peanut in his mouth as he agreed.

“All right.”

He got up from the table and approached the man at the bar, throwing his coat back and resting one hand on his hip as he held his beer in the other said,

“Freddie? Freddie Simmons my God it’s you isn’t it?”

The tail had looked at him once before Dom got up and jumped over the railing of the balcony. From there, he lost his attention as he rushed past him.

“No, it isn’t.”

He went back to the table and sat there despite the commotion Dom had caused. He smoked a cigarette and finished his beer, then settled the tab because he was far too frequent a patron not to. He had taken his time, though a half hour was a long time to kill. He checked his watch and then slowly made his way back down to one of the doors, resting his shoulder against it as he placed his hand on his hip, looking up and down the crowded streets, watching for any sign of Dom.

Suddenly he heard a whistle as a black Mercedes crept up along the curb and Dom’s stupid head and arm hung out the window. He tapped the door as if Eames would miss him and he walked up to the door, nearly laughing at how obvious and unsubtle Dom was.

God, why did Mal ever marry him?

“Ah, so this is your idea of losing a tail hm?”

Dom pushed the door open for him, giving him a look, almost embarrassed as he said,

“Different tail.”

Eames only shook his head and got in the car.


	17. Chapter 17

+

Eames met Saito and was given the photos of their mark, Robert Fisher, along with the information on his father and uncle. Eames flipped through them, taking mental notes while Dom and Saito talked, with Eames putting his two cents in before taking them to meet Yusuf.

Yusuf’s shop was lined with many different compounds of Somnacin on the shelves as his cat walked on top of an empty shelf. Yusuf was immediately interested, as Eames knew he would be.

“You’re seeking a chemist to formulate compounds for a job?”

Dom nodded and leaned back on the chair he had been offered across from Yusuf’s desk.

“And to go into the field with us.”

“I rarely go into the field Mr. Cobb.”

“I need you there to tailor fit a compound specific to our needs.”

“Which are?”

“Great depth.”

“A dream within a dream. Two levels.”

Dom leaned forward as if to give away a secret.

“Three.”

“Not possible. That many dreams within dreams is too unstable.”

“It is possible. You just have to add a sedative.”

The way Dom said it made it seem as if he knew about this already. But Eames stayed quiet and listened on.

“A powerful sedative.”

Dom only nodded and from there, Yusuf smiled, more interested than Eames had ever seen Yusuf be in anything. He asked about the team members and Dom answered. It was five - Dom himself, Eames, Arthur as the point, a rookie architect Eames had not yet met and Yusuf as their chemist. But then Saito interrupted, saying,

“Six.”

Dom, Eames and Yusuf looked at Saito as he picked up a chair and joined Dom at his side, speaking matter-of-factly,

“The only way to know you’ve done the job Mr. Cobb.”

Eames shook his head, knowing what a monumentally bad idea that was.

“There’s no room for tourists on a job like this Mr. Saito.”

“This time, there seems there is.”

Yusuf changed the subject, casually presenting Dom with a bottle of his most potent sedative,

“I use it everyday.”

“What for?”

Picking up a set of keys, Yusuf began to explain as well as lead the way but then stopped himself, saying maybe Dom didn’t want to see.

But Dom was adament.

Along with the many sordid things Yusuf did, running a sleep den was one of them. The den where men had been on the PASIV for so long that they could no longer sleep naturally - men who paid an arm and a leg for certain spans of time to dream, and Yusuf was all too willing to give them what they wanted.

After proving just how potent his sedative was, combined with his own special compound - making three, four hours feel like forty - Dom was ready for his own test run.

Yusuf and his assistant hooked Dom up like the others - about twelve men all attached to PASIVs - and soon, Dom was asleep. The timer was set up for ten minutes, but for Dom, it would feel like hours. Eames sat on one of the empty bed as he toyed with his watch and Yusuf looked at him.

“You knew I would be interested.”

“I owe you, don’t I?”

“The pay off will be big.”

Eames nodded.

Saito watched over Dom, curious as Yusuf knew they would talk about all of this later.

When the timer was close to finishing Dom began twitching and fidgeting in his sleep; soon enough, he snapped awake, gasping for air as Eames looked over at him and Yusuf smirked knowingly.

“Sharp, no?”

Dom looked disturbed, scared even, and he pulled the needle from his wrist as he got off the bed and disappeared into the washroom. They all gave him a few moments before Saito followed him and Eames stood up, putting his hands on his hips as he sighed in annoyance. Yusuf looked at his friend as he murmured,

“Must have been some dream.”

Eames nodded, concerned with Dom’s reaction.

  
  
+

  
  
Eventually, they had to go back to Paris and Eames braced himself to run back into Arthur once again. They hadn’t seen each other in months, nearly another year and he was still in the dark on where they stood.

As Dom brought them into the warehouse, introducing everyone to each other, Eames met Ariadne, their young and fresh faced architect who seemed excited as she did nervous. And there, there was Arthur. He was in one of his perfect outfits, camel colored pants and a white oxford with black pinstripes. The sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, the collar undone slightly, his hair slicked back with his coat hanging over a near by chair.

“Arthur. Good to see you again.”

He shook Arthur’s hand as if they were friends though inside his heart was breaking. Arthur took his hand and shook it back.

“Eames.”

Ariadne looked at the two of them and once they parted ways, Arthur took her to a different table covered in papers and models as she whispered none too subtly,

“You guys know each other?”

Eames turned away, acting as if he was uninterested in the blossoming conversation as he heard Arthur say,

“You can say that.”  
  
Everyone spoke and got to know each other as they began going over the entire plan. When it was over and everyone was going their separate ways for the night, Eames thought of going to a hotel but he couldn’t once he stepped out onto the Paris streets.

They weren’t too far from Mal’s old apartment so he walked there instead. With his hands in his pockets he moved forward, following a path he had once walked a dozen times over, his mind flooding with memories. Once he got to her former building, he stopped and looked up, and upon seeing the terrace he froze in place.

Paris was becoming painful for him, all sorts of beautifully good memories started in this city and now every corner served as a hurtful reminder. Mal’s apartment was where he had spent a lot of his youth, drinking, smoking - and when they both got swimmingly drunk, they danced together on the hardwood floor in their socks while Mal sang Edith Pilaf. They had many dinners there, many tea and sandwiches and had so many talks about everything. It was at that apartment that Mal told him about Dom and where she would tell him so much about her relationship.

Paris is where he married Arthur, where he spent his honeymoon with him, where they spent their first holidays together. And though they had come back several times over throughout the years - now they were there again but separated and nearly strangers.

Suddenly, he couldn’t bear the thought of going into Mal’s apartment - not yet. The wound was still so fresh and he couldn’t imagine stepping in there without her. Instead, he turned away and dug around for a cigarette as he went to find a hotel for the night.

  
  
+

  
“I will split up my father’s empire.”

Dom pointed at a large presentation pad as he sat down and went on to explain. They had met that morning to continuing planning and to discuss Fischer and his father. Immediately when they met up again, Arthur practically sneered at Eames’ choice of clothing,

“You look like a twenties gangster.”

“I’ll choose to take that as a compliment.”

“You would.”

As Dom went on to explain the need to transform a business plan into an emotion, Dom pointed out the newspaper’s clippings pointing out the flaws and public outings between Fischer and his father, which gave Eames an idea.

“Can we run with that? Suggest breaking up his father’s company as a screw you to the old man?”

“No, because I think positive emotion trumps negative emotion every time. We all yearn for reconciliation, for catharsis. We need Robert Fischer to have a positive emotional reaction to all this.”

Eames leaned back in his chair, rocking in it slightly as he toyed with his chip and said,

“Alright so try this...my father accepts that I want to create for myself, not follow in his footsteps.”

Dom nods, seemingly satisfied as he held his cup of coffee.

“That might work.”

“Might?” Arthur interjected.

Eames looked up but said nothing just yet as Arthur continued.

“We’re going to need to do better than might.”

There Eames turned to his estranged husband as he snarked,

“Oh thank you for your contribution, Arthur.”

He could see the rage for being called out on something so trivial, especially by Eames.

“Forgive me for wanting a little specificity, Eames.”

Eames chuckled, so amused for getting under his skin, just like he use to when they first met. He only looked at Arthur while facing him, appearing to not understand him as Arthur repeated himself.

“Specificity?”

As if saying it again would clarify himself. Eames only laughed, which further angered Arthur and Dom cut in between them, knowing where this was going if he didn’t put a stop to it.

“Inception’s not about being specific.When we get inside his mind, we’re going to have to work with what we find.”

They kept going, working out proper plans, all of them going under, different people being the dreamer as Eames explained what would work, Dom agreeing, Arthur improving on it, Ariadne taking notes.

Yusuf would often refine the compound, altering the sedative, testing it on everyone to see their reactions and then starting again.

Eames noticed that Arthur had more or less taken Ariadne under his wing, training her, teaching her about building up and out.

It almost felt like old times - being there with Dom and Arthur and even though Yusuf, Saito and Ariadne where there, Eames was...almost having fun.

Each night when they called it a day, Eames made his way back to his hotel - alone. He wanted to work and eat and sleep just like he used to because being out in the city was becoming too painful to face.

Eventually, Eames went off to Sydney to infiltrate Browning’s office and observe him, noting how Browning was slowly eating up Maurice Fischer’s power, taking over gradually as Robert Fischer watched over his father.

When Eames returned, he practiced Browning’s mannerisims, his walk, his gestures, and he knew he would get his voice once in the dream. He did this each night, going over any new information that was given to him as the plan began going into action.

When they began plotting the need for a ten hour gap, they realized they had nothing.

“He’s not scheduled for surgery, no dental, nothing.”

Dom furrowed his brow as he asked,

“Wasn’t he supposed to have a knee operation?”

“Nothing. Nothing that would put his under for anything and we need at least a good ten hours.”

Eames had been able to get into Browning’s planner and memorized important dates, to look for a gap in time to use for the actual Inception but there was nothing.

As he and Dom stood at the steps of a hotel lobby with Saito, he turned to them and said,

“Sydney to Los Angeles.”

Dom turned from his fidgeting as Eames turned to look at him too.

“One of the longest flights in the world, he makes it every two weeks.”

Eames was actually a little impressed with Saito. Seems like their tourist would actually be useful.

“Then he must be flying private then,” stated Dom.

“Not if there was unexpected maintenance with his plane.”

Arthur and Ariadne came in just then, Eames’s attention going right to Arthur, noticing his knee length coat, his tan dress pants, white shirt and dark yellow tie. It was amazing how he managed to look casual, yet still proper.

“It would have to be a 747.”

“Why’s that?” asked Dom.

Eames nearly rolled eyes as he again realized this was the man that they were following and he had just as many questions as Ariadne. She was new, Dom was just stupid. Arthur answered him anyway.

“Because in a 747, the pilot’s up top, the first class cabin’s in the nose so no one would walk through. But you would have to buy out the entire cabin and the first class flight attendants.”

As Dom and Eames thought on what to do about that, Saito turned towards all of them as he spoke.

“I bought the airline.”

Everyone stared in shocked, impressed awe as Saito muttered sheepishly,

“It seemed neater…”

Eames quirked the corner of his mouth as he gave a wave of his hand towards Saito as Dom turned to him.

“Looks like we have our ten hours.”

  
  
+

  
The research and work continued, along with Eames getting to know his estranged husband all over again. He realized how much he had missed not only him physically, but watching him work, watching him think and process and argue with him and Dom, bantering with him when Eames would say something, watching him teach Ariadne and showing off his knowledge in design, in architect and always impressing the young girl.

It was then he understood just why Arthur had felt so trapped and restless while living the domestic life.

He wondered if he had subconsciously forced Arthur to stay though he had not meant to.

He suddenly felt guilty.

A few weeks before the job, he took a chance and wandered into Arthur’s hotel. He knew Dom was staying in the same place, but Dom was still running tests with Yusuf so he felt a little more secure paying his estranged husband a visit.

Eames stopped by the bar for a bit of liquid courage before going up to Arthur’s floor. He waited near the elevators for twenty minutes before he even moved forward and once he did, he stood by Arthur's room for another few minutes before he bit his tongue and knocked.

It felt like hours before Arthur slowly opened the door and looked and when he saw Eames, there was clear surprise on his face.

“Eames…”

“Hi. I wanted to talk to you for just a moment.”

Arthur was much less stubborn than Eames ever was so he stepped back and opened the door wider, but Eames shook his head with a small smile.

“It’s just a moment, I don’t need to come in.”

“Oh.”

Eames leaned against the door frame as he toyed with his poker chip in his pants pocket. He cleared his throat as he looked down at his shoes and began to talk.

“I um...these past few months...watching you work. I realized that...I understand what you meant.”

He looked back up at Arthur, seeing confusion on his face as Eames clarified himself.

“When I left. When you told me that you felt restless living in California with me. I understand now.”

“Oh…”

Arthur looked down, his hand still on the handle of the door, the other on the wall next to the door. He suddenly chuckled,

“Your shoes are awful.”

Eames looked down again and then back up.

“I knew you’d hate them when I got them.”

“Why are you dressed like that anyway?”

“They’re comfortable in Mombasa. Plus, I went up in size. Nothing fit anymore.”

“I noticed. But everything is so baggy on you.”

Eames shrugged as he realized they had completely gotten off the subject. But it was nice to talk to him about something that wasn’t their marriage that was on the brink of ending or the Fischer job.

“This job...when it’s done…”

Arthur nodded, not even needing Eames to finish. Eames felt a little relief and he smiled slightly.

“I miss you, Arthur.”

“I miss you, too.”

It was more relief to him, for the first time not seeing his marriage breaking apart. He smiled at him and began to turn to leave when he heard,

“Eames...in Mombasa...when you called me Levine. I haven’t changed my name.”

He turned back to look at him, seeing Arthur had slightly stepped out of his room to tell him that and Eames sighed softly to himself.

“Good night, Arthur.”

“Good night.”


	18. Chapter 18

+

       All their planning soon came to a head when Maurice Fisher died in Sydney and Robert was taking him back home.

Their opportunity was suddenly before them and they moved fast, traveling to Sydney immediately

There was a lot on Eames’ mind as he went through the airport with his team and Fischer. He wished there had been another chance to talk to Arthur but as they came down to the line everyone got busier and there was hardly a moment to breathe, let alone talk.

As he began to board, Eames noticed Robert was behind him and he knew now was the time to act.  
Dom, Ariadne, Arthur, Saito and Yusuf were already on board and getting settled. Eames quickly stuffed his bag overhead and then stopped to take off his coat, purposely blocking Robert behind him. He heard Robert sigh and once his coat was off, he turned and looked at the other man casually.

“Oh, sorry.”

He was polite and as Robert nodded, trying to get past him, Eames immediately picked his pocket, stealing his passport. When Robert took his seat in front of Dom, Eames tossed the passport to Dom and sat down, letting Dom get started with the job.  
It felt like hours before the plane took off and Dom was able to get up, checking on Robert as he pulled out a blanket from the overhead compartment and let it fall on Fischer’s lap. When Robert didn’t move, Dom signaled to everyone confirming that Robert was out. Immediately, one of flight attendants pulled the curtains shut as another took the PASIV out from the kitchen area and brought it to Dom. Arthur moved then and everyone got a line, pulling them to their seats as Yusuf sat closest to the machine, meaning to monitor as Arthur prepared Robert.

When everyone was ready, reclined back in their seats, Dom nodded to Yusuf, giving him the go ahead as Yusuf hit the button and sent everyone under.

  
  
+

  
It was raining as Dom drove, Arthur and Saito in the backseat. They saw Yusuf standing on the street, holding a briefcase, his collar turned up against the rain as Dom pulled up to the curb and Yusuf climbed in. As he closed the door, Arthur gave him a look as he asked dryly,

“Couldn’t you have peed before we went under?”

“Sorry.”

Just then, Eames got in the passenger side, closing the door behind him and snapping his seat belt in. He looked up through the rearview mirror and remarked,

“A bit too much free champagne before take off, hey Yusuf?”

“Ha, ha, bloody ha.”

“We know he’ll be looking for a taxi in this weather.”

Dom defused the situation as Arthur and Eames hid their smiles, Saito just as amused.

He pulled out into traffic, speeding through the rain as he went right behind a cab and purposely hit it. Both cars stopped and the driver got out angrily as Dom pointed his gun to him, waving him off just as Arthur and Saito got out of the car and got into the cab, Arthur driving now.

They drove and right at the corner was Robert, hailing the cab Arthur drove. As Robert got in Eames did as well, rushing around from the opposite side of the cab and slamming the door behind him. Fischer looked alarmed as he asked,

“What are you doing?”

Feigning politeness, Eames answered,

“I’m sorry, I thought it was free.”

“Well it’s not.”

“Maybe we can share.”

“Maybe not! Could you pull over and let this-”

Just then, Saito popped up, holding a gun pointed at Robert as he sighed and looked at Eames. Eames only smiled back at him in response.

“Great…” Robert whispered under his breath.

They continued to drive and Dom stopped to allow Ariadne to climb in the passenger seat. But before they were able to continue, a freight train came out of nowhere and clipped the front of the car in its charge forward. Meanwhile in the cab, Fischer removed his wallet from his breast pocket and held it up haughtily.

“Look there’s five hundred dollars in there and the wallet’s worth more than that so you might as well drop me at my spot.”  
He threw the wallet at Eames and Eames looked down at it and he would have been insulted, if not tempted altogether. He took it and began rifling through it as he said,

“I’m afraid it-”

He was cut off as a hail of bullets began tearing through the cab. Arthur stopped when an SUV up ahead cut them off and as he began going in reverse, another blocked that path as well. He shouted at Eames to cover Fischer, which he immediately did, throwing a burlap sack over his head and pushing down on the seat. Bullets flew and shot out the back window, dinging the metal frame of the cab as Arthur stepped on the gas, slamming into the car in front of them, then reversing as Eames withdrew his own weapon, firing out of the shot out window. Arthur kept going, throwing the car back into drive, ramming the cab ahead to give them space, Saito firing out of the passenger window as Arthur reversed again, pausing only to duck as his window was shot out. He instantly sat back up, his own weapon in hand as he fired, dropping the projection before he continued reversing.  
When Dom and the rest of the team finally showed up, they clipped another car, forcing the car to slam into another projection. Arthur kept going, pinning another projection between the cab and another car and he wouldn’t stop, angrily slamming on the gas. As a last ditch effort, the projection attempted to fire off another shot and Arthur screamed,

“Eames!!!”

In response, Eames popped up and fired off shots, killing the projection as the car behind them finally moved and Arthur continued, top speed before spinning the car back around to face the proper direction. The first thing Arthur did was look over his shoulder and shouted,

“Are you all right?”

It took Eames a moment - high on adrenaline, still looking out the shot out back window - to realize Arthur was talking to him.

“Yeah...I’m ok...I’m ok. Fischer’s ok, unless he gets car sick.”

“Saito?”

When Arthur looked at Saito, he saw he had been shot.

  
  
+

  
  
The drive to a preplanned warehouse was tense. Everyone was quiet until they arrived and Eames got out of the car first, opening the large sliding doors as the two cars pulled in. Eames shut the doors once the cars were inside and Dom tore out from his car, furiously shouting,

“Get Fischer in the back room now!”

Eames yanked the back door of the cab open and tugged Fischer out, passing him off to Yusuf who was close to him. Eames helped Yusuf led Robert off as Arthur was getting Saito out and easing him on the floor of the warehouse.

“Has he been shot? Is he dying?” Asked Dom.

“I don’t know,” said Arthur.

As Saito was flat on the floor, Arthur looked up at Dom as he asked him,

“Where were you? What happened to you?”

“Blocked by a freight train.”

Arthur, confused, turned to Ariadne, questioning her.

“Why would you put a train crossing in the middle of a downtown intersection?”

Ariadne shook her head slightly, afraid at the situation unfolding before her.

“I didn’t!”

“Where did it come from?”

Arthur had a feeling he knew where it came from and as he looked at Dom, Dom instantly defended himself.

“Let me ask you a question, why the hell were we ambushed?! Those were not normal projections, they were trained for God’s sake!”

There was instant guilt on Arthur’s face, feeling the weight of his mistake on his shoulders.

“You’re right…”

“How could he be trained?” Asked Ariadne, who was getting more confused by the second.

“Fischer’s had an extractor teach his subconscious how to defend itself so his subconscious is militarized. It should have shown in the research, I’m sorry…”

“So why didn’t it?” Shouted Dom.

Arthur gave him a look, getting fed up with Dom as he held his hand out to him, hearing Saito groaning in pain at his feet.

“Calm down.”

“Don’t tell me to calm down! This was your job goddamnit! This was your responsibility! You were meant to check Fischer’s background thoroughly! We are not prepared for this type of violence!”

He pointed his finger in Arthur’s face and Arthur, like a good friend who knew how Dom acted when stressed, took it. He let Dom walk away from him as he said,

“We have dealt with sub security before we just have to be a little more careful and we’ll be fine!”

Yusuf and Eames returned from the back just then and Eames had heard Dom yelling at Arthur, shifting the blame for his cock up onto Arthur. He began to pull his weapon, checking the magazine as he began to walk between them, hearing Dom continuing to yell, saying,

“This is not part of the plan! He’s dying for God’s sake!”

Resisting the urge to just shoot Dom and be done with it, he pointed his gun at Saito as he said,

“We’ll just put him out of his misery.”

As he began to aim, Dom suddenly shoved him against the cab, his hand tight on his wrist, and Eames could only stare at him in shock. This was not the Dom he knew, wild eyed and full of rage.

“Don’t do that….”

“Hey...hey….” whispered Eames.

When Dom pulled away from him, letting his wrist go, Eames explained.

“He’s in agony, I’m waking him up.”

“No...it won’t wake him up.”

Dom was out of breath, the moment catching up to him and he began to calm down as Eames was now beginning to get angry.

“What do you mean it won’t wake him up? When we die in a dream we wake up.”

Dom closed his eyes as he moved his hand down as if trying to bring down the situation, feeling the rage roll of Eames in waves as Yusuf said,

“Not from this.”

He instantly turned to look at his friend as Yusuf continued.

“We’re too heavily sedated to wake up that way.”

“Fine, so what happens when we die?”

He looked at Dom, feeling the betrayal creeping up, his tone accusatory because he knew what this meant and why Dom was so defensive.

“We drop into Limbo.”

“Are you serious?!” Asked Arthur.

“Limbo?” Questioned Ariadne.

“Unconstructed dream space,” explained Arthur without ever taking his gaze off Dom.

Dom turned away from them, feeling everyone’s eyes on his back.

“What the hell is down there?” The young girl asked.

“Just raw infinite subconscious. Nothing is down there. Except anything that might have been left behind by anyone who sharing dream who’s been trapped there before. Which in our case…”

He stepped up to Dom, glaring at him.

“...is just you.”

“How long could we be stuck there?” Ariadne asked.

Yusuf began blundering with an answer and Eames in his anger turned and shouted at him,

“How long, Yusuf?”

“Decades! It could be infinite I don’t know! Ask him, he’s the one who’s been there!”

Dom had his eyes closed, his hands on his hips as he breathed heavily, everyone else digesting the new information with worry. Arthur scoffed, disgusted that his friend had just lead him to their dooms. He turned to Yusuf and told them to move Saito off the floor. As they helped him up, Eames continued to glare at Dom before he shook his head and looked away, remarking coldly,

“Great….thank you.”

Dom slowly raised his head, hearing Eames behind him as he turned to face him.

“So, now we’re trapped in Fischer’s mind battling his own private army and if we get killed, we’ll be lost in Limbo till our brains turn to scrambled eggs. Hm?”

Dom said nothing but felt the hatred, the anger and rage coming off Eames.

They had never liked each other - though mutually respected each other because of Mal. But now, now it was all different. Dom’s fuck up had led them all to their potential deaths and Eames felt that same feeling he did in Amsterdam, knowing he shouldn’t take this job, knowing that anything with Dom was a mess, previous jobs with him having taught him that and still - he took this job. He was furious, not only with Dom but also with himself for even thinking Dom was capable of anything but being a fuck up.

Dom only walked away from him.

  
+

  
In the back room of the warehouse, Arthur tended to Saito with the help of Ariadne. They all knew they had no choice but to continue with the plan, though inside, Arthur’s mind was in turmoil, the cost of his mistake in the forefront but the anger he felt for Dom was close behind it. When he felt someone else there with them, he turned seeing it was Dom, his closest friend who had just pulled him to his doom.

He felt sorry for Ariadne - so new and innocent, who might not see the end of her first job. For Saito, who was going to die in the most painful of ways possible. For himself...because he was going to end himself to help Dom because he said he needed it. He nearly ended his marriage because of Dom … and Dom had lied to him.

“You knew the risks and didn’t tell us.”

Dom made eye contact with him and skirted around the issue, telling him this was supposed to be easy, supposed to have no risks at all; all the same, Arthur felt the rage rising but kept it in check because now was not the time. When he felt Yusuf close by, he turned to him - another con.

“And you went along with this?”

Yusuf tried to defend himself saying he trusted Dom but Arthur knew what that meant.

“You trusted him? When? When he promised you half his share?”

“No! His whole share…”

Eames by then had joined everyone else and heard Dom trying to explain himself, saying he had to do what he felt necessary to get back to his children. Eames stepped in close to Arthur as he glared at Dom.

“So you lead us into a war zone with no way out.”

Dom argued. There was a way out - the kick. They would finish the job and kick out.

Eames refused to go any further. It was signing their death warrants if they delved any further but Dom pointed out that the only way out was to go ahead, to go deeper because Fischer’s mind was already coming at them and it would be a matter of moment before the projects caught up to them in the warehouse. Eames scoffed in disgust, hating that Dom was right.  
He took charge again - as much as a man like Dom could take care - and told Eames to prepare. Dom and Arthur were going after Fischer.

  
+

  
Eames prepared as he always did - in front of mirror, slowly shifting into Browning’s appearance. As he did, Dom joined them and stated,

“You’re on. You’ve got an hour.”

“An hour? I was supposed to have all night to have a crack at him.”

Figures everything would have been fucked, why not his time? Dom pointed out that Saito wasn’t supposed to have been shot either and they had to move a lot faster now. So Eames finished his forge and as he sat in Browning’s skin, he turned and yelled - making sure the sound could reach Fischer in the back.  
  
When Eames as Browning was dragged back to Fischer, he was chained beside him and Dom was told they had an hour. Using all his tricks, all his skills, easily slipping into Browning as a character, he worked on Fischer, trying all angles of sympathy, of emotional reason, going on his level to make him feel as they were both trapped.

He heard Fischer speak bitterly about his father, how desperate he was for his affection only to be turned away time and time again. Every word he said, Eames absorbed - keeping it in his mind, remembering the photograph in Fischer’s wallet of himself as a child with a handmade pinwheel, remembering what Fischer had said - that even on his deathbed, his father still managed to mangle out what he truly thought of his son. “Disappointed.”

He reminded Fischer that if they didn’t give these men something, they would both be killed, but still Fischer explained he knew no number, no combination, nothing. He then said they wouldn’t be killed, they would be ransomed but Eames shook his head, telling him that he overheard the plan, they would be locked in a van and sink it in a river.

Fischer thought for a moment and asked his uncle what was so important about this supposed safe these men were questioning them about and Eames went on to explain it was a will, a will that would supersede the previous will in Maurice’s firm. This will would break apart Fischer Morrow.

“Leaving me with nothing?”

Eames looked at him, knowing Fischer was going through turmoil from the betrayal of his father’s last insult, and as Fischer tried to digest why he would be left with nothing, Eames said he didn’t know.

Dom and Arthur returned then and tried to force something out of Fischer. When he still insisted he knew nothing, Dom pulled his gun and phone, explaining he had someone on the other end ready to try and open the safe and he would need the first six numbers that came into his mind. When Fischer began to say again he didn’t know, the gun was pointed to Browning, the phone shoved against his face.

“Five, two, eight, four, nine, one.”

Dom pulled the phone back and listened as he told him he would have to do better as he hung up. Dom gave the order to bag them. Once they were yanked to their feet, they were lead back to the van and Fischer was drugged.  
When he was out, Eames hopped out of the van again pulling the bag off his head - himself again as Dom asked him if he got anything.

“That boy’s relationship with his father is even worse than we imagined.”

He could see Arthur’s concern instantly change into annoyance as he said,

“This helps us how?”

Dom stated the emotional value of it as Arthur went back to the cab to get his weapon - a more powerful rifle - while Ariadne began getting into the van and Yusuf dragged Saito along until Dom went to help him. When Arthur returned he asked,

“How are we going to reconcile them if they’re so estranged?”

“I’m working on that aren’t I?” Eames asked, glaring back at Arthur, the both of them on edge.

“Work faster.”

Eames scoffed as his estranged husband walked past him, approaching the doors as he warned everyone the projections were closing in on them and he positioned himself at one of the windows of the warehouse. Dom and Yusuf helped Saito in as Arthur raised his weapon and began firing.

The projections fired back and Arthur ducked and covered before returning fire. There were too many of them and the window was not a good vantage point so Arthur moved to the sliding doors, easing one open just enough and took a few down but kept returning fire with one who was hidden up on the roof behind transformers. The rain didn’t help his cause.

As he kept firing and ducking when he had to, Eames walked up to his side as he said,

“You mustn’t be afraid to dream a little bigger, darling.”

In his hands he carried a large grenade launcher, which he held up, aimed and fired, causing the transformers to explode as the projection was launched off to the side. Eames could feel his husband’s eyes on him, clearly impressed with him as he turned and walked back to the van as Arthur watched him leave before he pulled the warehouse doors open completely.  
Everyone was now in the van, the coast clear enough for them to go as they began to prepare to go into the next level.  
They had to shift Fischer’s anger from his father to Browning now to repair their relationship and expose Browning for what he was. As Arthur questioned Fischer’s security, Dom said,

“We bring in Mr. Charles.”

“Who’s Mr. Charles?” asked Eames.

“A bad idea.”

As Dom said that once they approach Fischer in the second level, they would be destroyed if they didn’t use the Mr. Charles ploy, Eames questioned,

“So you’ve done it before?”

Arthur instantly jumped in, saying it didn’t work. Once the subject was aware he was dreaming, they were torn to pieces. Dom insisted, ending the discussion as he told Eames they needed a distraction. Eames knew exactly what to do as he pulled the sack back over his head, the needle in his wrist ready. Arthur and Dom warned Yusuf to not miss the kick, they only had the one shot. Yusuf nodded, saying he would play the music as a warning and then asked if everyone was ready.  
Yusuf caught sight of an SUV trailing them as he said,

“Sweet dreams!”

And hit the PASIV to send them under to the second level.


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Double upload as an apology for the wait!

+

“Am I boring you?”

Fischer looked up from his drink to see a beautiful blonde woman beside him.

“I was telling you a story. I guess it wasn’t to your liking.”

She pouted slightly as Fischer said,

“I have a lot on my mind.”

Just then, Dom appeared and introduced himself. Smoothly, he asked the blonde her name, but she instead stood up to leave. On a cocktail napkin was a number and the blonde slid it over to Fischer as she stood up, pressing herself against him for a moment before she then sauntered out. As she crossed the lobby floor, Eames noticed Ariadne and Arthur, both dressed in professional attire watching him as he made his way to the elevator. He glanced up as Arthur looked back at him, Ariadne now turned away as he made it to the elevators. As the doors opened and Saito began getting out, she rushed towards him, pushing him back in as she said,

“Mr. Saito, can I have a minute?”

The elevator doors closed and Eames lost his tail as Saito seemed confused until he looked in the mirrors behind him and saw Eames now, no longer the blonde as he shoved him back.

“Very amusing Mr. Eames.”

They felt the rumble through the elevator shaft and Eames explained it was Yusuf’s driving topside. He took out Fischer’s wallet and again rifled through it, finding the photograph of himself as a child with his father holding the pinwheel. He then passed the wallet to Saito and told him they have to get off on separate floors and to dump the wallet, hoping to give Dom more time.  
Once on his own, he slowly made his way back down to the lobby seeing Arthur and Ariadne had already moved on, Fischer’s subconscious looking elsewhere and he felt a bit better knowing Arthur wasn’t in immediate danger. He waited for a bit, doing his best to blend in and turned in time as Browning passed him. He followed him and saw Saito up ahead and Eames gestured for him not to say anything. Browning was confused by Saito and Saito apologized, saying he mistook him for someone else.  
As Browning moved ahead, Eames told Saito that the other Browning was Fischer’s own projection of his uncle and it would be best to follow him and monitor his actions. When Saito asked why, Eames told him in simple terms, that his actions would tell them if Fischer is starting to suspect him.

  
  
+

  
When they all reunited in the hotel room that Arthur and Dom cleared, making it seem as if there was another plan to kidnap Fischer and put him under again by another party, Fischer’s confusion and fear was coming to a head. As he tried to make sense of things, the door of the hotel room opened and Arthur pulled them in, throwing them to floor and when he looked up, Fischer saw it was his uncle.

Fischer was in disbelief, asking his uncle what happened as Cobb pulled the room key from Browning’s hand, showing Fischer it was for this room.

As Browning explained - after Fischer accused him of the kidnappers working for him - that he couldn’t let Fischer break up Fischer Marrow, couldn’t let Maurice’s final insult cause Robert to rise because Robert could build a better company, Fischer stood there, taking everything in.

Dom told Fischer his uncle was lying, hiding something and as Fischer asked what, Dom opened the PASIV, telling him they were going to find out.

Fischer agreed and once he was out, everyone else begins to prepare. Ariadne took a chair and seemed confused as Dom told her the plan, turning Fischer against his uncle and bringing them aboard as part of their team. Arthur turned towards them as he stated,

“He’s going to help us break into his own subconscious.”

“That’s right.” Said Dom.

While that conversation was happening, Eames took a spot on the floor - with Fischer on the bed, and Browning and Ariadne in the chairs, there was no other real place for him to lay down on. He was nervous for Arthur, he was staying topside while the rest of the team went under. He had all the faith in the world in Arthur, his still husband and he felt closer to that goal the further they went with the plan. He really began to believe they would make it out alive. As he began to prepare, taking the cannula, Arthur knelt beside him and helped him. It was one more chance for a private moment and Eames let go as he let Arthur prep him.

“Security’s going to run you down hard.”

“And I will lead them on a merry chase.”

Eames laughed now, lying back on the floor.

“Just be back before the kick.”

Arthur finished as he looked at him, a small smile pulling at the corners of his mouth.

“Go to sleep, Mr. Eames.”

Eames resisted grasping his hand, looking at him any more fondly than he already did, wanting to tell him so much more but he left it at that. Hearing him call him Mr. Eames reminded him of the moment right after they were married...and again, he bit his tongue on calling him that in return.

  
  
+

  
It was Eames’ dream now. Snow covered mountaintops, endless gray skies and all of them in thick winter suits, goggles and hats. He took in the cold air as he skied towards his team Fischer and Saito close behind.

Dom told Eames he needed to draw security away and Eames nodded but asked who was going to guide Fischer in. When Dom said if he did they would be compromised - Eames glared at him. He swore to himself then and there that once they get out of there, he would never forgive Dom. He would never again look at his stupid face, deal with him on any level, never trust a word that would come out of his mouth. He knew that would be more difficult with Arthur, but he was pretty damn sure Arthur wouldn’t be too keen on seeing him for at least a while.

Ariadne volunteered but Dom said she was with him so Saito offered. Eames only smiled at him.

Fischer questioned Dom about not coming into the compound with them, Dom told him it was something Fischer had to do on his own but they would be live - as he tapped on Fischer’s radio and that they would cover him from the outside.

They moved on with the plan and Eames skied close to the compound and set off a flare, knowing the projections would see it and follow him. He watched them approach and then headed off down the mountain, crouching down to gather more speed, hearing the snowmobiles not too far behind him. He kept going until he found a cluster of trees and ducked into them and then stilled himself, watching and waiting as security passed by him. In the distance, he heard the wind howl softly and low but then it changed and he pinpointed the exact part of the song that Mal use to sing to him all the time.

He radioed Dom, whispering urgently,

“Cobb? Are you hearing that?”

It was a moment before he heard anything so he told Dom he thought it was just the wind until Dom suddenly responded,

“No, it’s the music. Damnit…”

“What do we do?”

“We move fast. Saito, did you copy?”

Eames listened to Saito respond, leading Fischer into the compound and he moved. He raced quickly, security at his back again as they opened fire. They didn't have long before the kick and they didn't even bring Fischer inside. He moved as fast as he could, ducking as bullets flew at him. He rushed, feeling the adrenaline pumping through his veins and his thoughts flashed to Arthur for just the briefest of moments as he then heard the great roar of the mountainside cracking and falling apart, an avalanche starting. He scrambled behind a tree, watching the snow rushing past him, burying security in the process and he held his breath until it stopped.

As it got silent again, he peered around and radioed Dom as he asked him,

“Cobb? Did we miss it?”

He was hoping it was not the kick. He actually hoped this was not yet another fuck up in a long list of fuck up’s.

“Yeah we missed it.”

Eames cursed to himself as he asked,

“What the hell do we do now?”

“Finish the job before the next kick.”

  
  
+

  
He moved back towards the hospital, cutting through the forest - hoping to avoid security but of course, no such luck. In fact, he was right behind them, seeing they were going towards the same direction. He radioed Dom, giving him the heads up as he heard him say,

“Buy us some time.”

“On my way.”

He managed to make it to the compound and there he worked fast, removing his skis as he moved along the base - setting up mines along the lower walls. He kept moving, until he ran into security again.

They engaged in a fight, throwing punches and Eames giving as good as he got. He finally managed to throw over the projection over the sheer face and he suddenly heard Ariadne’s tiny voice telling him to get inside right away.

  
+

  
Eames rushed into the vent and made his way inside when he suddenly saw Saito. He knelt down beside him and saw death in his eyes as Saito weakly gasped out,

“No room for tourists, right Mr. Eames?”

Eames just smiled at him as he stroked his arm and got up, making his way in.

He froze for just a moment when he saw Ariadne and Dom standing over Fischer and ... Mal.

He didn't want to look at her, reminding himself it wasn’t really her but a projection.

“What happened?”

“Mal killed Fischer,” said Ariadne.

He couldn’t even imagine the very notion, images of the Mal he knew running through his mind and he moved, as if to run from them.

“I wouldn’t shoot her…” He heard Dom mumble.

Eames reached the wall and yanked off the defibrillator and knelt by Fischer. He did his best not to look at Mal’s lifeless form, focusing his energy on the job, on bringing Fischer back. As he shocked him once, he heard Dom tell him it was pointless, that Fischer was already gone.

“So that’s it then? We failed?”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s you who doesn’t get back to your family.”

He looked down at Fischer, shaking his head, feeling the end right out of his grasp again. He looked back at the large double doors, locked like a vault as he said,

“I wanted to know what was going to happen in there. I thought we had this one.”

“There’s still a way. We follow Fischer down.”

“We’re almost out of time.”

Ariadne explained that in Limbo they’ll be more time and that they could kick out from there with the defibrillator and bring Fischer back and then he could go to the vault and have enough time to ride the main kick all the way back up.  
Eames thought it was insane enough to work and looked at Dom as he told him Saito could cover him as he planted the rest of the chargers.

Dom protested but Ariadne shouted,

“We have to try!”

“Go for it. But I’m taking the kick whether you’re back or not.”

He meant it as a threat to Dom. He would have no qualms about leaving him, something much better than infinite, raw dreamscape was waiting for him topside.

They began to prepare and once Dom and Ariadne were both hooked into the PASIV that Eames had with him, he sent them under and then prepared the paddles close to Fischer. He raced back over to Saito as he helped prop him up better as he gave him a gun. He told him he needed his cover and he moved, grabbing a machine gun as he ran back out.  
He threw grenades to stop security from climbing up the walls, firing off his weapon before ducking down to the ground to avoid the returning fire. He removed the chargers from his pack and finished planting them before heading back inside, having held off the projections just long enough.

He took just a moment to breathe, his heart racing, his lungs burning and he knew - he believed this has to work. He would rather not abandon Ariadne but Dom was another story entirely. After he pulled himself together, he ran back inside the compound and paused once again to see Mal.

Mal...he had loved her so much and now she was gone, done in by something Dom did. Mal would have never committed suicide - never would have left her children behind, never would have said Dom did it if he didn’t have something to do with it. He wondered if he would ever know the truth but he didn’t have too much time to think about it as he heard the low bars of the music echoing through the air. He knelt down by Fischer and pressed the paddles to him and shocked him.  
Nothing.

He shocked him again and that one did the trick as Fischer coughed, gasping awake as Eames helped him up and gestured him to the vault, telling him to go - quickly.

Eames got up as well but stayed behind, watching Fischer approach the doors as they unlocked and slowly open as Fischer stepped inside.

  
+

  
It was Maurice Fischer’s hospital room, and as Fischer approached his dying father, Eames stood closer to the doors, reaching into his coat pockets and taking the detonator in his hands as he watched, being the only witness to Fischer’s catharsis.  
He watched him stand by his father’s bed and leaned in when his father tried to speak.

“Come on….come on…” Eames whispered to himself.

He watched as Maurice Fischer spoke and Robert looked shocked as his father began to gesture to the side of the bed, Robert trying to grasp his hand but the older man shook him off and pointed beside the bed to the safe next to his bed. Robert leaned down and punched in the six digit number, the same number that had been pressed into his mind this whole time and as it opened, he reached in removing the pinwheel he had made as a child.

Eames watched as Robert’s face crumbled and he collapsed on the side of his father’s bed, clutching the pinwheel as the entire room began trembling.

Eames hit the detonator and the world began to shake, large pieces of the room beginning to break off, ending the dream. The last he saw as the room began to break away from the compound was Fischer and his father falling away, the floor shattering under his feet as he gave way to free fall and he opened his eyes again as he felt he was still falling but now, he was in the elevator and he can hear Edith Pilaf echoing in his ears and he knew in his mind - the kick, he was riding it back up - and he managed to glance at Arthur beside him as his body hit the floor of the elevator.

There was panic for the briefest of moments as he felt he was drowning, a firm grasp on his arm yanking him out of the van, the sack still over his head as he was pulled to safety. Then, there was air again and he pulled off the sack from his head, heavier now as it was filled with water. He was Browning again, and he looked over to see Fischer still holding his arm, pulling him to the river bank and he began to move now, both of them swimming to safety.

They climbed out of the water, the rain still falling as they both sat and tried to collect their bearings, panting for air. As Browning, he turned to Fischer as he said,

“I’m sorry Robert.”

“That will means my dad wanted me to be my own man. And I’m going to, Uncle Peter.”

Eames nodded as he looked at him.


	20. Chapter 20

+

 

There's silence now, followed by the hum of the plane engine. Eames opened his eyes and saw they were back on the plane, the flight attendant offering hot towels and immigration forms.

They made it. They actually made it. Eames turned his head just a little to see Arthur looking back at him.

When they land they don't acknowledge each other, but Eames glared at Dom as he watched heading to customs. Eames grabbed his bag and headed out, done with his part, knowing he would collect later. Right now, the only thing that mattered was leaving. He stood outside of LAX with his coat in his hand, his bag in the other as he hailed a cab and when one pulled over to the curb in front of him, the driver got out to assist Eames with his luggage. When he finished, he heard the driver ask,

"Are those yours as well sir?"

Eames was confused as he turned to his side and saw more luggage. He was about to say no when he saw Arthur behind the bags and Arthur answered,

"Yes, load them please."

"Arthur..."

"I thought we could share."

"I'm going home. I don't know where you want to go."

Arthur looked at him for a moment, a small smile on his lips as he said,

"I'm going home too."

+

 

Their house. Still their house, the little time they spent there felt like an entire lifetime ago - memories still clear in his mind where he had ardently tried to build a life for them, but much like his first attempt at Inception, it didn’t take.

He was sure he knew why now, having smothered Arthur with entirely too much affection, too much of his love, too much of his hopes, too much of...himself. Everything he had hoped to avoid came crashing over his head in complete failure when Arthur told him he felt trapped.

Now they were back after so many years and Mal’s death.

He set his bags down by the sofa, close to the door, just in case as he threw his coat on over the arm of the sofa. Most things were covered in dust, though everything stood as he remembered it and he sighed as he heard Arthur coming in behind him, closing the door as he walked further into the living room. He set his keys down on the coffee table and made a soft hum as he said,

“This place needs a good cleaning.”

“What are we doing here, Arthur?”

Arthur looked at him, taking off his coat as he sat down carefully on the sofa and looked up at Eames.

“I don’t want my marriage to end.”

“I don’t either.”

“During this job...I must have been scared out of my mind a dozen times. Not for myself. But for you. And you were just so amazing throughout this whole thing...you saved us.”

“I just did my job, darling.”

Arthur shook his head as he clasped his hands together and looked at him.

“I realized...I was stupid for being so devoted to Dom. He didn’t deserve the help. He lied to me, kept me blind. And I just kept trying to help him because I know that Mal would have been so angry with me if I didn’t.”

“I thought the same thing.”

“It was more for her that I stood by his side. But I should have known better...she was always in his mind, in his dreams. When we worked together and Dom was the dreamer, she was there. She shot me more times than I care to remember….Dom was fucked up and I thought I was doing right by her by going with him and I was wrong. And it almost cost me my marriage.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong. I was the one who left. But in some bizarre way, I think it helped us. I understood why you couldn’t stay here.”

“I never wanted to stop working. But I never wanted us to not live here. I want both.”

“You can have both.”

Arthur sighed softly, looking back down at his hands as he asked softly,

“Can I?”

Eames sat beside him then, taking his hand in his as he laced their fingers.

“You can. I know the mistakes I made before. I won’t do them again.”

“Your mistakes?”

“I smothered you. It was too much all at once.”

“You didn’t smother me, Eames.”

Arthur leaned his head on Eames’ shoulder, sighing softly to himself.

“I think...I think we both made mistakes. Tried out something new and now we know what we can do and what we can’t.”

“I want you to work. I want you to stay here. I want you to do whatever you want. But I want us to stay together. I don’t want to lose you.”

“You won’t lose me.”

“I almost did. I lost Mal.”

Arthur lifted his head up and looked at him then.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

Eames let go of his hand to put his arms around Arthur, pulling him in closer as he just held onto him. It had been so long since he got a chance to touch him, not since Mombasa when Arthur delivered the news of Mal’s death. He felt Arthur lean against him and then he heard him laugh softly.

“What?”

He pulled away as Arthur reached up to the collar of Eames’ black button down. He smoothed it down, then slid his hand down the front of his chest.

“This shirt. This whole outfit. It looks...nice. Considering all the horrible shit you were wearing while we were planning.”

“I had to get something to blend in on the plane.”

“I like it. It’s just like before.”

“You dressed me before.”

“Only for jobs. And special occassions.”

Arthur smiled now, a real smile - his dimples showing up and God, Eames felt like swooning. That same swoon that let him know he was in love.

“Either way...when it was me dressing myself, it was jeans, hats and trainers all day.”

“Yeah. But I liked that better than your vintage, second hand clothes that looked like my grandfather’s clothes.”

Eames laughed then as Arthur looked at him.

“I love you. I always had. I never stopped.”

“I love you, too Mr. Eames.”

Arthur smiled again before leaning closer to him and kissing him. It felt like when he woke on the plan with the realization that they had made it. The feeling of elation and success running through him was right on par with the feel of Arthur’s lips against his own and he wondered how he ever managed to go on this long without it.

He kissed Arthur back softly, slowly, savoring every second of it because it had been too long. The kiss was dry and nearly innocent but when he opened his mouth and shyly let his tongue touch against Arthur’s, it ceased to be innocent. Eames gently took Arthur’s bottom lip in his - sucking softly for just a moment before he pressed his tongue inside the warm cavern of his mouth. Arthur made a weak little noise and Eames slowly pulled back as he reached up and held his face, running his thumb along his bottom lip, feeling the wetness along it as he looked into Arthur’s mocha colored eyes.

“Take me to bed.”

“You sure?”

“You’re going to keep me waiting after nearly two years?”

“No… it was stupid of me to ask.”

 

+

 

They made love all day. It was a reunion of epic portions - lovers taken apart and then put back together. Honestly, it was a moment Eames thought he would never partake in again, especially as the whole Fischer job began going to hell and he feared he would never get out alive.

The first round was slow and paced, getting to know each other all over again.

The second time around was more frantic, rushed, harder and Eames left bite marks and bruises all over his husband’s body.

His husband. He could say that with certainty now and as he lay beside him, covered in sweat and cum, sticky and exhausted, his back and hips stinging from where Arthur’s nails had scraped over his skin - he reached over and grasped his hand. Arthur turned towards him, hearing him groan from soreness and exhaust as he threw his arm over Eames’ chest and nuzzled up against him. Eames felt his smile against his throat as he held him in response.

“Again…”

Eames turned towards him as he said,

“It’s not even twenty minutes, baby.”

Arthur kept gently rubbing his nose against Eames’ throat, sliding his leg over Eames’ keening softly as he said,

“You have years to make up to me, Mr. Eames.”

“I will...just...five more minutes.”

Arthur kept kissing his throat, his hand running up and down his husband’s bare chest, his fingers scratching through the hair there and Eames sighed softly, turning towards him, taking his wrist and putting Arthur on his back.

“Impatient little kitten.”

Arthur nipped at his mouth with a smile, spreading his legs apart as Eames began to settle between them again.

“Fuck me...come on...fuck me again...and again and again...I want to feel you for days…”

Eames groaned against his mouth, his cock stirring again as he looked at Arthur.

“If that’s what my darling wants…”

Arthur nodded, chasing after his mouth again as Eames did exactly what Arthur wanted.

 

+

 

The next morning, Eames woke up with his face pressed against Arthur’s back. His arm was draped over him, the sheets and blankets from their bed kicked off and on the floor. Arthur’s lovely, perfect ass was on display and when Eames picked his head up, he saw it and didn’t resist reaching over to it and cupping a firm, thick cheek in his hand. His arm was sore and there were already fingerprint bruises on his skin but he gave him a squeeze before moving back and sliding his hand up his lower back, fingers sliding up the valley of his spine and up to his shoulder blades. He let his hand spread out across the smooth, flat planes of his back, leaving kisses against his skin and he let the feeling of luck spread through him.

He was lucky. He always felt like the luckiest man in the world when he was with Arthur, like he could put all his money on a single hand and win, like he could throw the die and always get a seven. Arthur made him feel like he would always walk away a winner. He felt his heart beating against his chest fast, the thoughts of never again having Arthur at his side was almost too much to bear, like the pain of losing Mal only so much worse - much, much worse.

As he turned to touch his tousled hair, he saw the marks he had sucked onto his skin, his crooked teeth left behind impressions, red rings of passion that Arthur had cried out in pleasure from. Last night, the only time Eames had stopped was when he opened Arthur’s shirt and saw his necklace with their wedding band still hanging from it so he removed it and slid the band back on his finger, knowing they had nothing else to hide from anyone.

Eames sat up then, his entire body aching and exhausted - Arthur had wrung him out, worked him thoroughly throughout the night, giving him just enough time to rest before demanding more of him and Eames was all too willing to give.

Of course now, he was paying for it as he groaned softly, feeling his limbs protest to further movement - the tightness in his back, in his shoulders and especially his thighs - as he eased his legs over to the side of the bed. He cursed softly to himself and when he stood up, he felt his knees nearly give before he steadied himself and walked around the bed.

In a wardrobe where he still had some clothes, he opened a drawer and took out a pair of pajama bottoms. As he slowly pulled them up, he heard a soft groan from the bed as Arthur turned and slowly lifted himself up onto his elbows. He turned towards Eames as he smiled a little.

“Where are you off to?”

His voice was husky and dry, still wrecked with sleep and the overuse of last night. His moans and screams practically shook the windows of their house and Eames counted his blessings that they had no neighbors.

“I was just going to see if we had any coffee or tea in the house. If not, we’d have to pop round to the shop for some.”

Arthur laughed softly as he laid on his side, his leg sliding up and bending slightly to cover him as he said,

“I don’t want to do anything.”

“Neither do I, darling. But we can’t live off each other.”

“Mmm...we can try.”

“I believe that was the attempt last night.”

Arthur laughed softly and oh - that laugh. He had fallen in love with that laugh as he had with Mal’s.

He walked back over and reached down to the sheets and blankets, pulling them up and over Arthur, smoothing his hand over his hair as Arthur pulled him back in bed.

            Eventually, he did make it to the kitchen and he found some tea bags. Nearly everything was where he left it, the major absence of food was the only concern but other than that, it was home again. He didn’t realize how much he missed it until he stood in his kitchen, making tea for himself and his husband.

As he waited for the kettle to boil, he thought of Mal. His beloved Mal, the one person in his life he had felt safe with and when she was gone, he wanted nothing more than to hide in Arthur forever. He again regretted not telling her about him and Arthur...and while he knew that would cause her great joy and satisfaction, it was too late now.

Though he knew it would wreck Dom.

Dom. There were still loose ends to tie with him and he looked forward to collecting from him.

The kettle came to a boil and by then, Arthur joined him in the kitchen, wearing his own pajama pants and one of Eames’ shirts. He didn’t remember packing that shirt and he thought he had left it behind when he left for Mombasa and he saw then he had left it - in Arthur’s care.

He set his cup down in front of Arthur before sitting with him at the table and Arthur yawned, his hair a mess, though a bit shorter than before. He took the cup and let the tea bag steep for a moment before pulling it out and sitting it on the saucer as he picked it up and took a sip. Eames did the same and when Arthur set his cup back down, he looked at Eames.

“So…”

“I don’t want to see Dominic Cobb for a very long time. If ever again, after I collect what he owes me.”

Arthur gave a soft laugh as he looked at his cup and ran his fingers along the rim.

“Funny, I was just thinking the same thing.”

“He put us through hell.”

Arthur nodded in agreement.

“He killed Mal.”

Arthur looked back up at him then. His eyes were steady and unreadable and for a moment, Eames thought he might have gone too far. Maybe Arthur didn’t believe that - despite everything Dom had put him through, he wouldn’t believe him a murderer. But then Arthur took a breath and said,

“He did.”

Eames felt his breath still in his lungs as he waited for Arthur to go on.

“He didn’t tell me everything, but I picked up on it here and there...especially through the Fischer job. He told me he had tried to do Inception before but it didn’t work. He told me that he and Mal had tried it and afterwards, Mal seemed strange, different. She killed herself afterwards.”

He paused, looking down at his cup, running his thumbs along the lip of the mug. When he looked back up, Eames was still waiting for him.

“He told me that Mal had set him up, seen a dozen therapists, and they all claimed her to be sane. He told me that Mal had seen their lawyer, that she was afraid of Dom and feared for her life. Then she jumped out of a window in front of him. The cops came after him, telling him he was wanted for questioning and he knew he couldn’t get out of it, there was nothing that would make him clean and so he ran. When he told me, I felt sorry for him, for Phillipa, for James, and I thought, God these kids lost both their parents. But they didn’t have to lose Dom, not if I could help. I believed him when he said he didn’t do anything but then I started having my doubts when we started working and Mal would appear. The first time she appeared in the dream, I almost cried. I was so relieved to see her...I almost forgot it was a dream and I just..."

He stopped again, looking away, towards the kitchen window. Eames reached over, taking his hand, understanding. At the time of Mal’s death, he would have given anything to see her again, to talk to her, to tell her everything, to hold her and hear her laugh and touch her face so her sparkling eyes would look at him in adoration.

“I ran to her and held her tightly. I felt her hair against my face and I told her I missed you, I love you, so much. And she didn’t say anything. She only held me for a second before she stabbed me in the back and I woke up. I thought maybe it was just a fluke, the grieving mind of a widower. But when we worked...she was there. She was always there, stalking the backgrounds of the dreams, breaking through Dom’s subconscious and she sabotaged everything. It began getting to the point that Dom had to stop being the dreamer. He couldn’t build anymore, couldn’t do anything because Mal would be there. I began to piece it together by then. He had done something to Mal. She was a form of his guilt, always circling in his mind. Then, during the Fischer job, I started to really see. That wasn’t Mal. Not the Mal I had known. Not the Mal that would tell me she adored me, who drank wine with me, who teased me about being so young and so brilliant.”

He paused to smile at the fondness of his memories of her before he took a deep breath.

“Dom was ruining my vision of her. And that’s when I knew he was lying when he said he didn’t kill her.”

“I think...maybe it’s best I don’t know the truth. Because if I find out he killed her...I may just kill him myself.”

“He was so jealous of you. I think he was never threatened by me because Mal saw me as her baby brother but you...the way Mal would light up around you. He heard you once...when you called Phillipa your should have been daughter.”

He laughed and Eames laughed too.

“He was livid. Then when James was born...he told me that if he didn’t love Mal so much, he would have James tested to make sure he was really his. It’s why he didn’t want you to see him.”

“If only he had known I was busy trying to knock you up instead.”

Arthur laughed again and the sound would always sound beautiful to Eames’ ears. When Arthur finished, he ran his hand through his messy hair and looked at Eames again, pulling his chair closer to him.

“We need to collect our share from Dom but I want to show him what an ass he’s been all these years. And that I want a long time to pass before we see each other again.”

“If ever.”

Arthur nodded, taking Eames’ hand tighter in his own.

“If ever.” Arthur agreed.


	21. Chapter 21

+

 

It took a few days before Arthur even formed a proper plan in his mind.

Until such time, they played house.  
  
It was just like before only somehow…better. They resupplied their home and cleaned it from top to bottom. Arthur confessed that after Eames had left he had stayed a couple of months, waiting for him to come back, then hired a housekeeper when he left to work with Dom. By the start of the second year, he told the housekeeper her services were no longer required.  
  
So they cleaned and did laundry and went to the grocery store and made dinner and enjoyed each other’s company once more. It was just like the beginning when everything was new and unfamiliar yet it wasn’t, because this was his Arthur.  
  
There were long lost hours of domestic chores that Eames found no end of delight to. When Arthur asked him to move furniture, to build a new shelf for the study, to mow the lawn, to paint the bathroom - he did, happily.  
  
He was rewarded with Arthur cooking for him, baking for him, ironing his clothes, dressing him when they went out and it was just…so good. Eames loved it, loved every second that was given to him and when Arthur sat on the counter beside him while he did the dishes, he would smile at him and again feel like luck was on his side.

  
  
+

  
  
A few days quickly turned into a month and Arthur said it was time to pay Dom a visit. Eames had been ready for that moment the second Arthur came back to him and he couldn’t wait to see the look on Dom’s face when they both showed up.  
  
It was late in the afternoon when Arthur was ready to go. He dressed in his black suit with matching waistcoat and a familiar looking wine colored tie that Eames looked at while Arthur helped him with his tie.  
  
“You still have the tie.”  
  
He had given it to Arthur on a whim while they were in Rome and he knew Arthur would appreciate the fine texture, the quality of the delicate silk. Arthur looked at him and gave a little smile, the dimple on the right side of his mouth appearing as he said,  
  
“Of course. It was a gift from you.”  
  
Eames settled his hands on Arthur’s waist as he finished adjusting his tie. He had picked out a dark gray suit for him, no waistcoat but braces, a white oxford and black silk tie with a black paisley pattern on it. He had combed his hair, shaved off his scruff - now that it was marked all over Arthur’s inner thighs, the backs of his shoulders and across his chest - and they were ready to leave.  
  
The drive was quiet but Arthur looked calm, his thumb brushing over his wedding band as Eames drove. Eames’ own wedding ring was almost immediately back in place when he returned home.  
  
They pulled up to the Cobb house where, out in front lawn, James and Phillipa were playing. Phillipa ran across the yard as James chased her, bubbles from a large wand in her hand trailed behind her as James’ chubby hands flailed in the air, popping them as they both laughed. As they got out of the car, Phillipa turned and saw them, dropping the wand and screaming as she ran towards them.  
  
Immediately, Dom rushed out from the open door and watched as his daughter went running towards Eames, practically slamming herself into him as he knelt down and hugged her. James was right behind her, running right to Arthur. Phillipa’s little legs wrapped around Eames, sparkling pink sandals now at his back as her little arms clung to his neck and she squealed as James did the same to Arthur. Dom was shocked to see them and then afraid as he stood on his porch and watched. When Phillipa eventually let go, Eames settled her back on the sidewalk, a dozen questions rolling off her tongue as she grasped his hand and began to lead him towards the house. Arthur carried James in as they both walked towards Dom.  
  
Once in front of him, Eames looked right at Dom and said,  
  
“Hello Cobb.”  
  
“Eames. Arthur.”  
  
Arthur nodded at him as Dom stepped to the side and welcomed them in. Phillipa still clung to Eames’ hand until Dom knelt down to her level and said,  
  
“Pippa, daddy has to talk to your uncles. Why don’t you take James and go back outside?”  
  
“No! I want to stay with Uncle Eames and Arthur!”  
  
Eames looked down at her as she clung to his hand and smiled warmly as her bright blue eyes gazed up at him.  
  
“We’ll be here for a bit, Pippa. Go on and play.”  
  
“Promise?”  
  
Eames nodded as Arthur set James down and let Phillipa take him back outside. Once the children were outside again, Dom offered them a seat at the kitchen table as he then fumbled around the kitchen for a bit and asked,

“Can I get you guys a drink or something?”  
  
“This isn’t a social visit,” said Arthur.  
  
Dom stopped and then cleared his throat as he said,  
  
“I thought as much.”  
  
He coughed again and looked down at the table as he held onto the back of the chair in front of him. Arthur settled his hands on top of the table, back straight as he looked up at Dom. Eames had a much more relaxed feel, leaning back on his chair as he rested one hand on the table, the other hand on his lap.  
  
“You still owe me my cut.”  
  
Dom nodded as he looked back up.  
  
“Uh, yeah...I have a check for you. From Saito. If you’ll excuse me, I can go get it.”  
  
Eames nodded as Dom left and he took the time to look at Arthur.  
  
“I’m surprised James remembers you. He was so little when I left.”  
  
“When you left. I stuck around a while longer. Mal talked about you to Phillipa all the time and showed her pictures.”  
  
Though Eames smiled, he was angry with himself all over again. Dom came back then and handed Eames his check as he said,  
  
“Here. I’ll assume that’s what you came for.”  
  
“Of course. And to see my kids.”  
  
He grinned as Dom narrowed his eyes at him as Arthur’s mouth quirked a little.  
  
“That’s not funny. It wasn’t funny then either.”  
  
Eames laughed softly for a moment before looking at Dom again.  
  
“There’s lots I’d love to say to you Cobb, but you’re not even worth it anymore. But I will say this much. While you were busy being insecure that your wife was fucking me, you really had nothing to worry about because I was busy fucking your point man. So you can go ahead and let that guilt pile on with the rest of what you have.”  
  
Arthur sighed softly and shook his head as Dom looked at him and then at Eames, his mouth gaping open slightly for a moment before he glanced back at Arthur.  
  
“How long has this been going on?”  
  
“A while.”  
  
“How long is a while?!”  
  
“That’s none of your concern anymore Dom. You were supposed to be my friend and instead you lied to me and almost cost me my marriage.”  
  
“Marriage?!”  
  
The look on Dom’s face made it all worth it to Eames. He only smirked as he watched the confusion and anger wash over Dom’s face and Arthur only looked at him with a straight face. Arthur stopped tapping his fingers and just held his hands, resting his ring fingers on top, making sure that Dom saw it. His blue eyes flared back and forth at them, piecing together what Arthur said to him. Eames made sure his own ring finger was visible as he said,  
  
“Yeah, mate. Marriage.”  
  
His mouth fell open as he then looked back at Arthur.  
  
“How could you not tell me?”  
  
“Why did you think you deserved to know?”  
  
Dom was quiet again and looked down for a moment before pulling the chair he was standing in front of as he took a seat and took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down.  
  
“I was upfront with you Arthur.”  
  
“After all these years, after this Fischer job, after Mal? You will forgive me if I have reservations about believing anything you have to say.”  
  
“I made my mistakes during the Fischer job. But so did you.”  
  
“Not life threatening mistakes, Cobb.” said Eames.  
  
Dom looked at him, venom in his eyes as Eames shot it right back at him. It was quiet but tense until Arthur suddenly stood up suddenly, Eames following.  
  
“I don’t want to see you for a long time. A very long time and maybe one day, when the very sight of you doesn’t make me want to strangle you, we can resume our friendship.”  
  
He turned to leave and Eames followed, hearing Dom getting up as well, his chair screeching against the floor as he said,  
  
“Arthur, wait!”  
  
He rushed past Eames and he stopped Arthur, putting his hand on his shoulder as Arthur turned to face him.  
  
“Come on, we’ve been friends for a really long time. I couldn’t have gotten back here to my kids without you. I owe you.”  
  
“Look at what you’re doing, Dom. You’re saying that to me. You won’t even acknowledge Eames despite what I just told you.”  
  
Dom scoffed as Eames rolled his eyes and dismissed him with a wave of his hand as he stepped outside. Phillipa, who seemed to have been waiting for him jumped up from the grass and ran back over to him. James followed as Eames sat down on the porch, taking Phillipa on his lap, James sitting beside him, not yet familiar with him as his sister was since he had been so young when Eames left.  
  
Phillipa looked up at him, her golden hair a mess of tangles since she had been playing, and when Eames looked at her, she was all Mal. There were hints - suggestions of Dom, but she was Mal’s daughter through and through.

“My mommy went to heaven.”

Eames frowned a bit but then nodded as he kissed Phillipa’s forehead.

“I know Pippa. I miss her all the time.”

“Me too. Why weren’t you here?”

“I had to work, pet. I didn’t know until it was too late. Will you forgive me?”

Phillipa seem to think about it, looking away for a moment before she looked back at Eames and nodded.  
  
“Thank you. It’s important to me that you forgive me.”  
  
She smiled and James stood up then, talking and showing off, Phillipa climbing off his lap as she decided to show off too, the both of them running and jumping and doing tumbles across the lawn and Eames laughed, amused. He knew that when the kids were older, he would be able to tell them stories about their mother, share some of his treasured memories with them and tell Phillipa how much like her mother she was.  
  
He was watching them for a while until he felt Arthur standing beside him and he looked up.  
  
“Ready?”  
  
“Yeah. I talked with Dom for a bit. I’ll tell you when we get home.”  
  
The kids ran back to the porch when Arthur appeared and they had to say bye to them.  
  
James held onto Arthur, his little face buried against Arthur’s shoulder as he asked in a soft voice when he was coming back.  
  
“Soon, I promise soon.”  
  
He frowned as if he had heard that before and Phillipa looked up at Eames too.  
  
“Tomorrow?”  
  
“No, not tomorrow, duck. Maybe in a few days.”  
  
She nodded, her face unsure as she hugged him again and as Eames held her, petting her head, he realized that this was as close as he was going to get to Mal ever again.  
  
“A few days, okay?”  
  
“Okay.”  
  
They made sure the kids were on the lawn, safely away from the street as they pulled off and left, Arthur waving to them until they were out of sight.

  
  
+

  
  
“I feel like a deadbeat dad and they’re not even my children,” said Arthur.  
  
Eames nodded in agreement.  
  
“Pippa made me feel guilty. Just like Mal use to make me feel.”  
  
Arthur laughed softly as he moved his shoes aside and worked on his tie as he said,  
  
“Mal use to make me feel guilty too. She had a way about her.”  
  
Eames pulled his tie off his neck and held onto it for a moment as he looked at Arthur.  
  
“What did Cobb have to say for himself?”  
  
“He apologized mostly.”  
  
He stopped long enough to take off his own tie, his coat already on the hanger, his waistcoat still on as he then went over to Eames to help him with his braces.  
  
“He said he was sorry for everything but he wasn’t sorry about you.”  
  
“Yeah, old Cobb and I never saw eye to eye on anything. But I will say this much about the prat - if not for him, I would have never met you. We were destined to meet.”  
  
Arthur looked at him, a smile on his lips, his dimples showing up.  
  
“That was so lame.”  
  
Eames leaned forward, kissing him softly, Arthur kissing back as he leaned towards him.  
  
“It was lame...but true.”  
  
After the moment had passed, Arthur sighed and resumed the topic at hand.  
  
“Anyway, Dom is...he’s still him and I will forgive him, eventually. But not right now. Not while he’s so against my husband.”  
  
The word sent Eames into a daze of happiness that he couldn’t even begin to form into words. He just smiled stupidly, leaning closer to Arthur, holding him close, tucking his head against his throat and kissing his skin there, right above the collar of his shirt as he felt Arthur holding him back. He was a lot bigger than when they were married, his shoulders more broad, his back, his arms, everything bigger and Arthur loved it, his arms barely being about to wrap around his body and Eames liked how much smaller Arthur felt. He sighed softly, pulling back only to look at him before kissing him softly and whispering,  
  
“Let’s go to bed.”  
  
“It’s only seven.”  
  
“Don’t be daft.”  
  
Arthur laughed softly.

  
  
+

  
  
It was much later that same night after the first round, after dinner and after the second one. Arthur yawned softly as he felt Eames behind him, his arm draped over his side, the sheets and blankets around their waists even though Arthur was getting a little cold now.  
  
He only shivered a little as he felt Eames pull the sheets up around his shoulders before planting soft kisses down the back of his neck.  
  
“You’re awake.”  
  
Eames nodded as he said,  
  
“Yeah...I thought you were asleep.”  
  
“I was just thinking.”  
  
“About?”  
  
“About Mal.”  
  
Eames let him turn over, holding the sheets up around him as he looked at him.  
  
“I feel guilty about not telling her about us. She would have loved it.”  
  
“I think about that too.”  
  
Arthur smiled a little.  
  
“She used to tell me we looked cute together. She used to tell me that I looked so smitten with you and I told her she didn’t know what she was talking about. But I was. After Prague, when you were angry with me and didn’t take any jobs with us, I remember her telling me she was going to call you to join us and then when you didn’t come, she told me I looked devastated. I told her she was mistaken, but I was.”  
  
“She used to tell me things like that all the time. I hated how perceptive she was. She knew I was mad for you from the moment we met.”  
  
Arthur’s smile never faltered.  
  
“I owe her one more thing,” said Eames.  
  
“Oh?”  
  
“I still need to tend to her flat in Paris. I thought of going there while we were doing the Fischer job but I was too raw still from everything. But I think I can now...with you.”  
  
Arthur nodded.  
“We should go.”  
  
“Okay.”  
  
He kissed Arthur again, holding him close.


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A big big big thank you to [solutionforreality](http://solutionforreality.tumblr.com) for beta-ing every single chapter. You're a love. :3
> 
> And thank you to everyone who read this all the way to the end. It's very much appreciated.

+

 

Eames felt dread as he sat in the cab, looking out the window on their way to Mal’s old flat.  
  
After agreeing they should go tend to it, they left for Paris and headed over to the university, where they paid Miles a visit.  
  
He had aged a great deal since Mal’s death, lost some weight so his face sagged a bit more, though his white hair was neat and combed nicely. When he saw both Eames and Arthur entering his lecture hall, he stood up from his desk.  
  
“Well, if it isn’t dreamshare’s best.”  
  
“You flatter me, Miles.”  
  
“I wasn’t speaking to you, Eames.”  
  
Arthur laughed softly as Eames pretended to be insulted. The old man gave him a smile as he shook their hands then offered them a seat and asked,  
  
“Do what do I owe the pleasure? You’re not here to steal another one of my students are you?”  
  
“No, not this time. This is a little more personal,” said Eames.  
  
Miles nodded as he leaned against his desk and crossed his arms against his body.  
  
“What is it?”  
  
“I’d like the keys to Mal’s flat.”  
  
Miles undid his arms and brought his hand to his glasses, removing them as he set them on his desk.  
  
“I thought you might come for those, sooner or later. It’s the only reason the missus and I didn’t go in there since...Mal.”  
  
Eames nodded as Miles pushed himself up from his desk and walked around to the other side, leaning down to pick up his briefcase and searched through it before retrieving a pair of keys. He then walked back to Eames, handing them over as he said,  
  
“Why are the two of you here anyway? I expected my son in law to be with you Arthur.”  
  
They stood from the student desks as Eames pocketed the keys and heard Arthur answer,  
  
“We’re together, professor. We were married some years ago.”  
  
“Ah, well that makes sense. It was good to see the both of you again.”  
  
They shook hands again before parting ways.

  
  
+

  
  
Eames remembered the last time he had been in Mal’s flat, that New Years after he and Arthur reunited. He and Mal had smoked and drank and he was pretty sure he had been on the verge of telling her about it but as always, didn’t.  
  
He also remembered wanting nothing more than to press Arthur up against a wall and devour him, to touch him and hold his hand and kiss his fingers and press his lips to Arthur’s. When midnight struck, he had so wanted to just kiss Arthur even more. He remembered kissing Mal on the corner of her lips, smugly in front of Dom, as he hugged Arthur and when Dom and Mal exchanged their kisses, he and Arthur just looked at each other and he could see it in his eyes, wanting to be kissed as much as Eames wanted to kiss him.  
  
Once the cab stopped, they both climbed out and headed inside, walking the flight of stairs up the three floors to her door and once there, Eames almost knocked. He stopped himself but Arthur saw as he held his hand and gave him a moment as he searched his pockets and took out the keys Miles had given him. As he placed them in the lock he held his breath, turning the key and opening the door.  
  
A fog of memories hit him in the face, leaving him overwhelmed.  
  
He remembered being invited there the first time for tea and having Mal show off her tea set, proud as she told him how she bought it in a proper tea shop in England. Eames had been impressed and since then, Mal always brought out the tea set that was now in Dom’s house. He remembered spending many nights there, sometimes too drunk to go anywhere, sometimes just because he was exhausted from a flight, sometimes because Mal was lonely and she begged him to stay. He remembered sitting at her white table and just talking to her, listening when she told him about Dom, about their relationship and then afterwards about Arthur. He remembered dancing with her to Edith Pilaf, records that Mal had been given to her by her mother. She would sing as she danced barefoot with him, often on her tiptoes as Eames danced in his stocking feet. He remembered standing on her small terrace and smoking there with her because she never wanted the scent of stale smoke to cling to the fabric in her home. Once they stood outside as it rained, Eames holding her close with one arm, the umbrella in his other hand as he smoked, puffing the cigarette that he held between his lips while Mal leaned on him, wearing her wellies as she held her own cigarette. They were treasured memories and he lived them again as he slowly walked through the door.  
  
Arthur seem to be living his own as they both stopped in the living room, looking around. Sheets covered her furniture, a fine cover of dust laid over everything, and it was quiet and smelled bland. When Mal was alive, there was always a scent of flowers and perfume in the air, sometimes pastries as she baked and now there was nothing.  
  
Eames swallowed hard as he turned on a lamp, seeing the shadows cast over everything. Arthur looked around as he sighed softly.  
  
“Mal…God I miss her.”  
  
Eames nodded, feeling the same way as he picked up a frame from one of the end tables in her living room and ran his hand over it, clearing away the filth. He looked at it, seeing himself so young with Mal, his arm draped over Mal’s shoulder as she held a cigarette in her hand. Her lipstick was dark and the flash of camera made her eyes shine brightly as her fringe covered her forehead. They were in their early twenties then, Eames was thinner, his face bare and his hair short and going in all angles, his own cigarette dangling from his lip as he glared at the camera. They looked reckless and dangerous and he figured it was why Mal kept the photo.  
  
“There’s my girl.” He smiled at the photo, running his thumb over Mal’s face under the glass.  
  
Arthur joined him and took the frame and looked at it, laughing softly.  
  
“Look at you. You look like a hood.”  
  
“I was.”  
  
They took time looking around, clearing dust off photos, from books and talking to each other about Mal, especially when they found the few personal possessions she had left behind when she moved.  
  
It was later into the evening. By now, Eames had removed his coat and rolled up his sleeves as they sat in the mostly empty bedroom, the bed still there but bare; a wardrobe and empty nightstand were all that remained. Arthur was in the same state as they sat on the floor against a wall, across from the bed. They had been quiet for some time and Eames could feel the emotion welling in his throat as Arthur sat beside him, his head on his shoulder, his hand holding Eames’.  
  
“I miss her. More than I ever thought possible.”  
  
Arthur looked up at him, seeing Eames turned away from him.  
  
“Me too.”  
  
Eames blinked away the moisture from his eyes as he turned to Arthur, leaning down, kissing his hair, holding his hand tightly as he swallowed hard.  
  
“I missed this place. It was where I felt safe...welcome. Mal made it feel like home. She...she was my sanctuary.”  
  
Arthur looked up at him then and leaned closer to him, kissing him softly.  
  
“I felt the same way. We used to work here sometimes...and we would sit on her sofa and she would put her feet on my lap while we did research. It would only be an hour before she got bored or hungry and then we would cook or go out to shop for ingredients or wine and chocolates. When we did cook, she made me do my share, get my hands dirty and we would try new things all the time and marvel at our success and laugh at our failures.”

He smiled as he saw the memory in his mind, picturing Mal in his mind and Arthur cooking in the now empty kitchen, laughing, flour on their hands, stains on their clothes. His eyes were closed as he listened, feeling Arthur’s warm breath on his lips as he whispered to him. Eames then opened his eyes, still feeling the wetness at his eyes as he looked at Arthur.  
  
“She was my sanctuary too.”  
  
His chest felt tight as he let out a shaky sigh and Arthur kissed him again, holding his hand firmly. Eames then turned away and reached into his pocket, taking out his totem, running his thumbnail over the ridges of the chip, feeling the dent that was the tell. It was real as much as he did and didn’t want it to be.  
  
He wanted to be married to Arthur.  
  
He wanted Mal to be alive.  
  
He hated that he couldn’t have both things.  
  
Arthur brought his hand over Eames’ wrist, his fingers brushing over his thumb as Eames said,  
  
“If I tell you something...promise me I won’t scare you off?”  
  
“I’m not going anywhere, baby.”  
  
Eames smiled a bit, feeling the tug on the corner of his mouth as he heard the nickname. He took a deep breath and confessed to him,  
  
“Mal was my sanctuary...for years. But when she married Dom and left me...you became my sanctuary. I thought I would long for Mal but you gave me a home...and when you took it away, I was more homesick for that than anything Mal took away.”

He felt Arthur hold his wrist tightly and he ducked his head against his shoulder and Eames stayed quiet, turning towards him.

  
  
+

  
  
When they felt strong enough to continue, they finished looking around and Arthur asked,  
  
“What do we do now? About this place? Mal’s parents won’t hold it forever.”  
  
“I can’t bare the thought of someone else living here.”  
  
“Why don’t we buy it?”  
  
Eames looked at him for a moment as if he was mad but then it began to make sense.  
  
Arthur saw the look on his face as he explained.  
  
“I can’t bear the idea of anyone else living here either. And we both have fond memories here. If you don’t want to live here, we don’t have to...it can just be ours. A little piece of Mal.”  
  
Eames nodded as they stood in her living room again, looking around at the shelves and the terrace doors and the chase covered over but Eames could still very much tell what it looked like, right down to the small wine stain where Mal set the base of her wine glass against it on the cushion.  
  
He looked back at Arthur and nodded.

  
  
+

  
  
It was another year before they returned to Mal’s - now their flat in Paris.  
  
In that time, they both worked, sometimes apart, most times as a team since the dreamshare community found out of their marriage.  
  
They kept their home in California and made visits to Phillipa and James when they could. Over time, they returned to Paris and slowly, began to clean up Mal’s flat. They cleaned the entire flat and added whatever furniture was missing and eventually stayed there whenever they worked a job in Paris.  
  
It was strange the first night they stayed there and Eames couldn’t sleep. He smoked as he stood outside on the terrace and watched the sun come up and flood through the streets. As he exhaled the last of his cigarette and flicked it over the railing, the terrace doors opened behind him. Arthur peeked out, his hair tousled as sleep deprivation evident on his face.  
  
“Hey...how long have you been here?”  
  
“A while.”  
  
He stepped back inside, closing the door behind him as Arthur took his hand and led him back to the bedroom. He was glad he wore his striped blue and white pajama pants and nothing else, Arthur in his own pajama bottoms and Eames’ t-shirt, making it easier to get back in bed. The curtains were drawn so faint beams of light spiked through and touched the hardwood floor and it was comfortable and Eames sighed, looking around.  
  
“I didn’t sleep.”  
  
“I know. I didn’t either.”  
  
“It still feels strange. Like it’s not really ours.”  
  
Arthur hummed, agreeing with him as he rested his head on Eames’ chest, his fingers brushing over his tattoos. Eames held him, letting his fingers brush over the back of his shoulder as he said,  
  
“I know it is though. Because you’re my home...and you’re here.”  
  
He felt Arthur’s smile against his chest and he held him tightly in response.


End file.
